Catharsis
by nuhuh
Summary: Post DH. Harry could never have known Albus-Severus was the herald of the new dark age. He watched as his youngest child came to be known as the Dark Son. Now Harry goes back in time to save his family and his son from the dark path.
1. Chapter 1

A.N. Yes, this story is my stress release because I can't get over my writing block on the other stories. Yes, this is full of clichés and fan favors and fanboyisms – why? Because like the subtitle says I said "F it." Story will be 50,000 words long. Here is the first 15,000 or so. Enjoy and take it for what it is.

**_Catharsis_**

Or How Nuhuh Couldn't Kill his Writer's Block and said F It!

_Albus-Severus?_ He thought to himself indignantly as he climbed into the vat of potion created from a lost and ill advised recipe. _Is it a wonder he ended up a dark lord?_ He scoffed even as the pain of his son's descent and eventual death by his own hands cut through his heart.

As he lowered himself into the steaming potion bubbling like a Jacuzzi he forcibly turned his attention elsewhere from his family's recent and bloody tragedy. It was a terrible fate to be orphaned and then also survive his children and wife in the same life time. It was the new Dark Age that had made him aware of things existing inside him from his childhood that he hadn't known were there.

Some things had begun unraveling in his mind as his son became the herald of the new Dark Age. There were inclinations, persuasions, predetermined decisions so embedded in his personality he never realized they were not his own. In awful irony he had found that it was the part of Voldemort's soul left wedged in him when the Dark Lord had tried to kill him that had given him the little freedom he had enjoyed making his decisions free of his 'heroic' tendencies. Those same predilections had made him name his own son after Severus Snape in a symbolic gesture of forgiveness. And the very same forgiveness had stopped him from pursuing the cancer of Death Eaters who had tempted Albus-Severus to their side, creating something he feared much more than Voldemort.

He had left no tears to mingle with the potion he was immersed in. After having to kill his own son who had hunted his own family there was nothing but numbness. That and the realization of a life time of his decisions and his personality being modified by the kindly man he had called his friend and mentor. These days they did not call him the boy-who-lived anymore, these days he was the Grand Sorcerer, like Dumbledore had been in his time. He had never felt like he deserved the title, not being as learned as Hermione in magic. But in the last decade he had owned up to the mantle as much as he could; matching his knowledge to his power. And was able to sense and rip the thread of subtle influence long acting in him as Dumbledore had wished.

Having led the world against a dark lord himself, having sat in the chair Dumbledore had sat in, Harry did not blame Dumbledore – much. _After all_, he thought, _what would I have done if I knew the world could be saved from Voldemort only if the Horcrux in a wizard was destroyed. _

At forty years of age he was his own man for the first time in his life. With that independence he decided he would not pick up the pieces left by the war with his son and go on. He decided he wouldn't try to carve out a new life with people he did not know, or those who had become estranged. He had to know why his son turned! He absolutely had to know why his family was tormented and destroyed.

On this journey he could have asked for his two loyal friends to be with him. But Ron had died, killed at home not knowing his godson was the new dark lord. Hermione, well, over the years she had become distant as the myth of the Boy-Who-Lived's unparalleled magical knowledge had spread the world. He admitted freely that she was the better witch but whereas Ron had eventually grown out of his jealousy of living in Harry's shadow, Hermione had grown into it. It saddened him, but compared to the rest of his life's troubles it was a small thing.

So he sat in the vat of potion and watched the hour hand on the clock tick by. Thirty more minutes and he would do the impossible. The one thing he did more consistently than any other wizard or witch was the impossible. Taking comfort in that he slipped a vial of red potion between his lips to take away his senses and put himself in temporary coma; he was unwilling to deal with the discomfort of travel.

* * *

Something banged loudly and then there was the sound of metal sliding. Light spilled into his vision harshly and a hand shook him.

"Wake up, wake up! Get to the stove!" The voice thundered in his head and he promptly turned over and vomited. The same voice shrieked in disgust, slapping him twice on the head. It felt like a troll was bashing him. A beefier hand grabbed him yelling obscenities and threw him into a shower, turning on the water. The cold shock of it brought Harry back to himself and he realized he was standing in the bathroom of No. 4 Privet Drive with his Uncle hollering down at him.

He'd made it.

"What the devil are you smiling about, boy? Right pleased you are ruining the closet Petunia and I so generously gave you when your good for nothing parents died!"

The insults from a forgotten past made him smile only wider – he was back.

The next hour or so went in a blur as his guardians reviled him and his parentage in a steady comfortable rhythm that they were used to and Harry was remembering. If it weren't the pounding headache and vicious heartburn he may have responded in kind. But then again just the sheer elation of having made it back so far in time made him brush off his guardians' vitriol.

Soon Vernon was off to work, Dudley with his friends, and Petunia had assigned him chores in the lawn; all this without a drink of water he desperately wanted or breakfast. He sat in front of the Petunia's petunias staring at them blankly as he lamented having to leave the Deathstick in his own time and all his other possessions. The unbeatable wand would have helped much in his new life.

He had checked the date; it was still some time before his eleventh birthday. It seemed just like it was yesterday it was his first child's eleventh birthday; just yesterday he had taken him to get his wand – he could remember his joy. He crushed the memory before it broke him apart.

He stuffed his hand in the oversized jeans he was wearing to close it around a bundle of money he had stolen from Dudley's secret stash. A wizard without a wand was one asking to be killed. He stood up walking around the back of the house, and when the windows of No. 3 disappeared from the corner of his eyes he disapparated. A wizard of lesser power or experience may not have been able to use the mode of magical transport without a wand but at least that was a thing he did not lack.

Luckily the Trace was something only applied to underaged wizards and witches when they joined the magical world at the age of eleven. Ollivander collected a modest stipend from the Ministry to do so on every child who purchased a wand from his, which happened to be all the magical children in England. There were many such workings of the Ministry that Harry was aware of, having worked for it as an Auror for better part of his adulthood.

Standing close to the Leaky Cauldron he waited for a crowd big enough to walk in the wake of. With his hand-me-down muggle clothes it was not easy to find a group that he could look a part of. Eventually he risked it; needing to do something instead of waiting so long that his memories would catch up to him.

Not making eye contact with anyone in the Leaky Cauldron he hung close to the robe tails of the group he was following and entered the alley. It looked just as it always did when there wasn't a war going on. Harry felt the pangs of losses too deep and too many to define; he walked on to the bank ignoring the magical shops and the crowd.

At the bank he approached the goblin working with parents of muggleborns. Not surprisingly the goblins had tried to put their nicest teller at the post. However, nice by goblin standards was still intimidating or surly. Harry considered trying to get into his own vault but knowing the goblins to be notoriously adamant about customers having keys knew it was a lost cause trying to prove his identity to them without it. Dudley's stash was enough for what he needed at the moment.

The goblin didn't pay him too much mind and changed pounds to galleons handing him a small sack. Taking it he left Gringotts quickly for a second hand robe shop; the type that was low on price and customer service. The last thing he wanted was Madam Malkin's exclusive attention on him.

Harry cocked a wary brow at _Cloaks for Blokes_, seeing why the shop was in a corner of Diagon Alley along with other less than presentable places. But it was the sort of thing he was looking for. A wizard sat at the counter with the Daily Prophet in hand. A few people were rifling through the mounds of cloaks and robes just sitting pell-mell on tables; Harry joined them. Soon he had a serviceable cloak near enough his size that would cover his over-sized muggle clothes so not to draw attention of curious on lookers. The shop keeper looked up briefly and mumbled an amount which Harry counted out and left on the counter top.

Wrapping the cloak around himself and pulling the wizard's hat low over his scar he walked toward the better parts of Diagon Alley to Ollivander's. There was a short line outside the shop; apparently the quirky wizard only took one customer at a time. The wait became impossible as happy memories of all his children's trips to the wand maker hit him. To distract himself he began cataloguing everything in his sight, from the color of robes to the approximate ages of the crowd, memorizing faces just to swamp his mind in minutiae.

Finally his turn came and he pushed the worn door to enter the shop to find himself blanketed in silence. The alley's sounds seemingly stopped short at the doorway as if they had hit a wall and only the hush of a room covered in dust and age was left. Harry felt vaguely surprised by the magic of the wand shop now that he had paused to take note of it.

"I was expecting you Mr. Potter. It seems just yesterday your parents were here for their wands. I wonder which wand will choose you." Ollivander came around an ancient shelf that could only have been standing because of magic. His owlish silvery eyes gazed into Harry's making him wonder as always why the man had that singular stare.

"Do you have any wands with phoenix core?" Harry asked, not wanting to stay too long in the wizard's company.

Ollivander gave him a sidelong look as he tapped his fingers on his chin thoughtfully. "Why phoenix core, Harry Potter?"

"It's a light creature."

"As are unicorns. Your mother's wand had the tail hair of a unicorn."

"I-like-birds." Harry couldn't keep the impatience out of his voice.

"Very well, but I warn you it is the wand which chooses the wizard to go on the journey of discovering magic not the other way around." Ollivander disappeared into the depth of the shop leaving Harry to memories. Irritated, Harry slapped away the magical measuring tape flying around over him; Ollivander hadn't even waited for the measurements.

Boxes flew in view before Ollivander appeared guiding them with his wand. He laid out a decent sized pile peaking Harry's curiosity about how the wand crafter had gathered that many phoenix feathers. Although one of the three most common cores it was still the least common of the three.

Ollivander opened a box. Both Harry and he said "no" at the same time. Ollivander gave him an odd look before taking the box back to open a slimmer one instead.

"No," Harry said again.

"No, you're right," Ollivander agreed. And so the crafter and the customer went agreeing on that each choice was a poor one.

"That's it, that's the one!" Harry exclaimed in relief as Ollivander passed the holly wand to him. As he touched it warmth spread from the wood to his hands and he did not have to wave it for the wand to let out a stream of golden light that wreathed his arm like a curling tail.

"Ah! A very possessive reaction from the wand, how wonderful!" Ollivander seemed genuinely pleased. "Curious, curious. I hope to see great things from you Mr. Potter."

Harry did not ask what was curious this time; he had a vague recollection that it had been the wand crafter who had clued him in the first time how he had gotten the scar on his head. So he felt a little regret for what he had to do.

"Thank you, sir…_Obliviate!_" Harry watched the man's eyes lose focus and jaw slacken – he had perhaps been less gentle than he wanted in his desire to keep his trip to Diagon Alley secret.

A simple but effective house cleaning spell later sent the pile of wand boxes to their places within the shop. Harry tapped the till to drop some galleons in it and quickly left, timing his spell so that Ollivander would come to himself as the bell on his door tinkled.  
He breathed in relief as he entered the main part of alley again, feeling lucky that he had obliviated the wand crafter before he had the chance to put the Trace on him. Even though as an ex-auror it was child's play for him to remove the spell.

The only other place he wanted to visit was the apothecary. He already had a list of things he would purchase from every one of the four apothecaries in Diagon Alley. Of course going to Knocturn Alley would have been more convenient, but also more conspicuous. Whereas Knocturn's discretion in what he purchased was worth the price, he couldn't afford being noticed by his enemies.

So going from apothecary to apothecary he collected cauldrons, stirring utensils, knives of specific weights and composition. It was the ingredients that he bought from different shops especially because separately they did not arouse suspicion but to anyone with a NEWT in Potions it would be an obvious conclusion that he was up to no good. He did have to make the excuse that he was shopping for his mother who was brewer once or twice when he asked for an unusual ingredient but was able to get everything he wanted.

The sun was high in the sky, no doubt Petunia would be checking on him soon to see if he was weeding properly. He cared little for the tantrum she would throw, all that was about to change. He walked to the Leaky Cauldron his shopping weighing him down; he was too little to manage everything. He cursed furiously under his breath and entered a magical luggage shop with displays of shining trunks in front, obviously to attract the new Hogwarts students.

An overly cheerful teen greeted him. _Probably makes a commission on the trunks he sells_, Harry though uncharitably.

"I'm looking for a small trunk, just to hold potion supplies," Harry told the corpulent teen.

"Sure thing, kid, we have something really special for potions. Always-Fresh ingredient containers, air tight holders for the really nasty smelling crap, latent evanesco spells when you'll have forgot to stopper the vials. Standard stuff. Wish I had bought it my first year. So what's your name kid? Excited about Hogwarts?"

"I can't wait to start. What house are you in?" Harry asked trying to divert the chatty boy from his name.

"Hufflepuff," he said proudly winding through the stacks of trunks lying about in a pattern Harry couldn't decipher. "We won the Quidditch cup last year. Three to two against Slytherins in the last five years I've been at Hogwarts. We'll win again this year, you'll see."

Harry kept the boy harping on about Quidditch, a conversation he could hold asleep, carefully avoiding any personal information. He didn't remember the Hufflepuff from his time at Hogwarts but it had been so long ago he could have easily known of him and forgotten.

As they talked the boy helped him place his supplies in a pleasant blue trunk not much bigger than two feet in length but having a decent magical depth to hold everything for him. It was small enough that he could carry it without too much trouble. Harry thanked the boy breezily, paying him and leaving before they could exchange more than "see you on the train."

As he neared the Leaky Cauldron Harry bemusedly realized that the boy had managed to keep his mind off his troubles; maybe he would look the Hufflepuff up when he got to Hogwarts. The thought surprised him as he wasn't looking to make friends. But his mind soon returned to a worry he had: would the wards fail on Privet Drive since his adult mind and soul called a different place home?

He tried his best to make the words "Time to apparate home" not sound like a lie. He did not want Albus Dumbledore coming to his doorway so soon to see why the powerful blood magic had failed.

* * *

"_Imperio!_" Harry was stunned for a second after he cast the spell on Petunia. He had appeared behind the house and she had come around the corner yelling at him and startled him. He had reacted with magic, doing what he had already been planning to do.

"Thank Merlin the Trace isn't on me." He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of his adult self. Being a forty year old in a ten year-old's body was a stress of its own kind. He looked at Petunia's blissful face in mild disgust. The horse-faced women looked even more unpleasant when she was happy. "Clear out Dudley's second bedroom for me and move my things up there," he ordered feeling the link between his mind and her become stronger now that he had actually given her a command.

Without a word she went humming inside the house. Harry followed with his shopping, quickly taking off the cloak and the hat before a muggle neighbor saw him wearing the odd clothes. Inside he set his cauldron and potion trunk on the formal dining room table. For the last decade he had been known as the Grand Sorcerer and he had done best he could to be deserving of it. In the dark arts and defense against them he was the legitimate authority in all Britain and much of Europe. There were a few other fields of magic, subtle and intuitive that he had excelled in, their nature appealing to his way of learning more than tomes, scrolls, and books. Yet there were other disciplines he could not claim such distinction in but he had made sure not to be lacking.

There were potions he did not need a book for anymore; he had made them so many times it was second nature. The Unctuous Unction was one of them and he brewed a great quantity of it. In a smaller cauldron Polyjuice Potion bubbled. In four more cauldrons other brews simmered that he needed constantly in the war. His hand trembled over a steaming liquid as memory of striking down Albus-Severus rose – how his son had changed physically to reflect the darkness within.

He sighed, taking out a small pot and lighting fire underneath it. He was going to need potions to keep his sanity, lest his breaking pain take it. No father should bury his children – he had done it, no father should have to annihilate his own son to leave no trace of him – he had done it.

"Harry! Harry! Your room is ready," Petunia called excitedly from above.

Taking two steps at a time he ran up and noticed she had brought his cot up from the cupboard under the stairs and set it against the bed in the room along with the rest of his meager possessions. The room was spotless if a little dreary.

"Thank you, Petunia. Please put the cot back and get a new mattress and sheets for the bed. Also a writing desk and a comfortable reading chair would be nice."

"Yes, Harry." Petunia obediently nodded.

"Oh, while you're out, pick me up some clothes. Nothing fancy. I don't want to stand out. Just guess my size or simply get me things three sizes smaller than Dudley's. Don't take too long, and drive safe." He gave her a weak smile, feeling a little bad for controlling her mind.

What she had done to him was so far in his past he found it hard to care or hold a grudge. He did not like her or care for her, but was far removed from her neglect that he could be the better man and not make it harder than it had to be. Petunia had smiled at him dazedly and gone off to run the errands he had ordered her too. _Grudge or not, I'm still using an Unforgivable on her. Better man my arse_.

* * *

His room was ready with new furniture and he had moved his potions upstairs as well. Petunia already had a dose of Unctuous Unction in her and Harry had released her from the Imperius. Now his aunt whole heartedly believed they were best friends, and was chatting his ear off about what she saw No. 2 doing with the husband of No. 8.

"And you know what I say about scoop necks, only reason they were made was for parading your cleavage like some scarlet woman, there she was just pushing up those lopsided lumps with her arms crossed under her chest. You wouldn't believe how awfully she was flirting, and another thing-"

"Lopsided?" Harry interrupted her, contemplating putting her back under the imperius for peace of mind. He weighed the dark potion against the darker curse: on paper the difference in magical effort was obvious. In practice he was losing his sanity.

"Oooh, yes! Margaret told me she went for a breast augmentation surgery. Had it done on the cheap, and you know how that is. The left one droops. You wouldn't believe what she told Esther about her nipples getting stretched."

"Gah! Enough! Stretched nipples? What is wrong with you woman?"

"Sorry dear, you're too young to hear these things. But you should know now, always go natural. Why! Vernon has never had any complaints with me but then I am more secure than most women."

Harry heard a ringing in his ears at that last comment and he gave up. Zoning out his aunt he added the potion to the dinner she was putting out in plates for Vernon and Dudley. His hand did hesitate as he wondered if the results would be the very mixed blessing he had with his aunt.

* * *

The next few weeks proved insufferable, having both Vernon and Dudley thinking he was their closest friend was downright torturous. Vernon regaled him with stories of conquests in office politics and terrible drill jokes, while Dudley followed him like a morbidly obese puppy wanting to play video games and beat on Mark Evans "that scrawny titch down Wisteria." Harry had had much practice with the imperius since his return to childhood.

He realized the irony that it was his relatives who were, by their magically induced friendliness with him, keeping his waking nightmares away. During the day he was too busy managing them when he wasn't brewing potions or constructing plans to think about his wife and children. At night when the demons would come en masse he took Dreamless sleep potions and a nightcap with Vernon to keep them at bay.

If it weren't for the Polyjuice needing a month to brew he would have acted already. In the time he had to wait he contemplated many paths he could take, and scrapped quite a few. Some friends he had made later in life he ached to see. He thought again and again of Andromeda Tonks, who he had connected with over raising her grandson. She had lost both her daughter, first to death eaters, and then her grandson to Harry's son. Her husband hadn't escaped the Death Eater's either. And so she and he had shared similar tragedies as well. The bin in his room was littered with half-formed letters to her.

If for nothing else he had left it as a bad strategic decision. Making contact with someone in the magical world after he had begun Hogwarts would draw less attention from Dumbledore than if he did it before. Reminded of his old school he struggled again with the choice of house. Slytherin, to keep his enemies closer than his friends. Gryffindor, to do what is expected and not raise suspicion that being sorted in Slytherin would naturally cause. Ravenclaw, for giving up the advantage of both Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. Hufflepuff, that was an idea he was warming to, to blind side both his allies and enemies. Only problem was Dumbledore twinkling himself to death that he had put Harry Potter so snugly in the path to martyrdom that he had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

Choices, choices…except he could never really fly under any other flag than the Gryffindor's scarlet and gold. That was one part of his childhood he was fully prepared to relive; to grasp the all consuming moments in his favorite sport.

Another week before he declared war.

* * *

Dudley and his gang surrounded him on the tables at the local fast food joint. They had been completely dumfounded by Dudley's sudden pally attitude with his cousin, but what Dud wanted, Dud got. Harry was not paying attention to their inane conversation about who beat the snot out of which runt, or who owned the latest whatever. Harry was on the hunt for a muggle with the kind of physique he needed.

There were enough girls running about who looked in shape but not a guy in sight. So when he did see one blow by running full tilt Harry was out of his chair and chasing before anyone realized he was gone.

He disillusioned himself as he tore after the tall middle aged runner. Very soon his lungs were burning. The man was getting away fast.

_Stupefy! Wingardium Leviosa!_ He cast silently, hitting the man square in the back and then quickly followed it with a disillusionment charm. Guiding the man into a relatively secluded area behind a couple of parked SUV's he set him down. Revealing him he noted the man was clean shaved with hair cut in a short business man sensible way; it was steely gray. The man was also tanned and had the kind of build for endurance performance. Harry smiled; just what he needed. With scissors he had been carrying around in his back pocket he carefully cut off the man's hair putting it all in a bag.

Finally obliviating him to think that he had decided for a change and had his head shaved Harry revived him and sent him on his confused way. Ditching Dudley with his friends Harry went back to Privet Drive. A grim set to his features betrayed the nature of his plans was anything but pleasant.

* * *

The Dursleys went to bed early at Harry's request. Anything for their dearest friend in the world; if Harry truly cared it would make him sick. But the little respite from the war he had taken for a month was over, and he was back to being the leader of the light side, the man they all looked to, and the man who had lost utterly everything but his physical life.

He stood in front of the mirror testing out the body he had poly juiced himself into. The muggle had blue eyes and stood at an even six feet. The strength in the body was all from lean muscle, built for quickness and long running. Harry tried a little skip, jump, dodge and was satisfied with how smoothly he had gotten used to it. Magic made such things so much easier.

The cloak he had already lengthened to his new size and charmed the color from dull gray to be pitch black. One of Petunia's plates had been transfigured into a white mask like that of Death Eaters. Having seen so many he was able to replicate it very well. He placed the mask on his face, staring at the unfamiliar clear blue eyes showing in the eye holes and then in a flash of cloak he had disapparated away.

In the corner of Knocturn Alley, where only the very select sort of criminals and deviants went, Harry waited by the unnamed bar. It was unnamed because it had simply no name, just a blackened board hung off the wall. The bar's clientele was a fraternity made of dwellers of the magical underground with a reputation for power in the black market. No one but they were allowed in there.

A certain Death Eater turned Ministry worker spent his nights in the dubious establishment. Harry stood against the grimy wall camouflaged in the murkiness. He waited patiently, playing out his moves.

When the powerfully built death eater stumbled out of the bar and burped at the sky, Harry was ready for him. The characteristic moustache was visible in the light that spilled out from the bar's momentarily open doors. When they swung shut behind Macnair throwing the alley in gloom once more Harry moved.

Within seconds he had him disarmed, paralyzed, and subsequently stupefied. To add insurance Harry bound him in ropes too.

The beggars and hags hiding in Knocturn Alley's crevices saw it all happen but knew better than to make their presence known. Later in the day they would spread the word how a Death Eater kidnapped Macnair from the very doorway of the unnamed bar breaking that sacrosanct code between criminals to not cause trouble at the bar.

Harry side-long apparated to the very gates of Azkaban, bypassing the journey on a boat that it took to get there. A small corridor was left open for Aurors at all times to be able to get to Azkaban as quickly as possible. Being an ex-auror he knew all the secret ways. Once on the island he quickly closed the corridor, putting an anti-apparation jinx in its place.

Before him rose the cold prison which housed the worst wizard kind had to offer guarded by the worst the world of magical creatures had as far as Harry was concerned. As an auror he had been posted at the prison a few times, cycling out the regular wardens of the place. He had learned its ways fairly quickly.

With Macnair in unconscious tow, Harry entered through a secret doorway. Taking passages that were meant to help the aurors quickly get from one level to another in case of emergency he climbed to the top, the ultra lockdown facility. A place luckily for him exclusively guarded by Dementors; not a wizard or witch from the ministry in sight.

There were magical devices that recorded some of the activity and tried to divine a future attack. But both being in disrepair held little threat to Harry. He dropped Macnair's large form by his feet, glad of the choice of muggle he had picked to polyjuice into. The muggle's strength had come in use while climbing ten stories.

He took out a piece of paper taken from one of Dudley's notebooks he had never used for class work. On it he had painstakingly penned the command spells for Dementors he remembered from his future. Placing his palm in it he spoke out, the words that left his mouth came out in shrieks even though to his mind he was speaking English.

From the depth of darkness that formed the tenth floor of Azkaban, three Dementors swooped. Harry sucked on the chocolate lollypop in his mouth relying on potions that had dulled his mind enough to be able to handle Azkaban's guards for some time before resorting to using Patronus.

"Orders?" They asked him, and he gave them.

The three led him into the tenth floor, opening stone doors for him on the way. Harry followed with Macnair floating behind him.

"This?" They asked, standing at a door. Harry looked inside recognizing Antonin Dolohov.

"Yes, you can have him." Harry spelled the standard unlocking spells the Ministry used and the Dementors flew in amidst the imprisoned Death Eaters bloodcurdling screams.

It was over soon. Harry had watched as they had held him like a lover and dropped their sightless faces to his mouth, one of them taking Dolohov's soul.

The second war against Voldemort had begun.

* * *

More dementors surged forward in the narrow hallway of the super secure level. It was as if the entire darkness of the place was made of their cloaks. Harry drank from another vial; feeling his thoughts slow and dull making him feel everything happening was a dream. The less human-like a mind was the safer it was from the Dementer's influence.

"This one?" A dementor asked next to him in a language he understood only because of the command spells. The creature's hood had fallen back to show its scabbed rounding head with just a hole to suck souls from.

Feeling drugged and stupid Harry looked through the bars to see a man cowering in the corner. His arms folded tightly into his body, and eyes manic, screaming: "No! No!"

Harry simply unlocked the door to Rabastan Lestrange's cell. The Dementors washed by him like a flock of birds, filling up the cell in an instant. Rabastan's screams died in the sheer thickness of the fiends packed into his cell. Harry couldn't even summon the smallest sense of satisfaction at seeing the Death Eater come to his deserved end.

Somewhere far in the fortress prison an alarm went off. One must have alerted the Aurors when he had opened the door to Dolohov's cell but he had been too preoccupied to notice. Even under the depths of mind altering potions he knew that he had to work quickly.

He walked away from Rabastan and peered in the next cell, shining his wand through the bars. The man scampered up to him, his mouth salivating and lips cracked as he demanded something. It looked like he was shouting at him, but Harry couldn't understand language anymore. The face was familiar as Rabastan's brother and Harry unlocked the cell door.

The man was stooped, filthy, and had pissed himself. He grabbed the front of Harry's robes with a painful smile. The Death Eater mask Harry was wearing had confused Rodolphus into thinking he was being rescued.

Some part of Harry acknowledged he was about to do a terrible thing, but another part that had set out on that path knew that the man had it coming. A Dementors reached for Rodolphus's arm like a care taker guiding a mentally ill patient back to his room. Rodolphus clung to Harry digging his fingers into his chest to stop the Dementors from taking him. Harry leaned into the man's ear and whispered "Long live the Dark Lord Potter" and pushed him away into the reaching hands of the Dementors who fell upon the inmate without further invitation.

Harry carried on: Rookwood, Mulciber, a few he remembered from his days fighting Voldemort but never knew names of; the entirety of the top level was made of Death Eaters. The Dementors followed him obediently, having a fuller meal than they had in a decade.

Two cells were left at the end of the narrow and dim hallway. He felt the press of Dementors behind him as they expected another feast. He looked to his left and a large shadowy shape of an animal was outlined against the far wall of black stone – Sirius. He looked to his right to find the woman who was cackling in glee at the sight of him. She like her husband believed he was her savior. He dearly wished he could feel emotion.

"Bellatrix…" he said in a hollow tone, thoughts of cutting words, vicious truths that would crumple her elation crossed his mind at a snail pace. He could not form them properly and so opened the door.

The woman kept laughing, her hair in a tangled disarray in front of her where her robes hung open showing a body ravaged by fear, starvation, and madness. Her wasted breasts made Harry turn away from her so he missed her running towards him. He felt her claw the back of his neck before she was crushed under the weight of Dementors taking her to the floor. Harry touched the back of his neck to find his blood, but he could not feel the injury through the potion's stupor.

"No, Master, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!" she wailed in throes of her worst memories and probably her greatest fear.

The Dementors fell away from the witch, now completely divested of her robes in the fighting and then feeding frenzy. Her insane eyes looked peaceful in their stillness. A sense of decency made Harry summon the remains of her prison robes and mend them with magic. He laid them on her to cover her nudity and wondered how she had turned out so different from her eldest sister who looked almost exactly like her.

"Go to the other side. Stop anyone from coming, do not harvest more souls," Harry commanded, sending the fiends to keep the Aurors from reaching him.

The animal shape in the very last cell was crouched and making pitiful noises between growling ferociously.

"Stupefy," Harry deliberately made the wand movement and enunciated the spell. It was getting more difficult to function with the potions. Soon he would come to himself and then have to deal with the Dementors' magic. None of the Aurors ever got this close to the dark creatures to order them.

With Sirius unconscious in animagus form, Harry entered the cell safely with Macnair who he had kept close while the Dementors followed his orders to finish off the prisoners. Throwing the Death Eater he had kidnapped from Diagon Alley down, Harry prepared for the last task.

Taking a swig from his polyjuice potion to retain the muggle's body, Harry forced Sirius to turn back to his human form. A quick cut of hair taken from his tangles and he had the last ingredient he needed. He cracked open Macnair's mouth and poured polyjuice down his throat with Sirius's hair mixed in. Using a simple healing ward spell he made the tall Death Eater swallow.

The stern face under the moustache began to bubble and distort eventually becoming sunken. The Death Eater also lost his intimidating size, almost shrinking to the point where he looked a fraction of the threat he did before. His immaculately kept moustache sprang out untrimmed and long with a matching beard. No matter how many times Harry had seen the process, it still fascinated him. And the change also struck home how desperately ill Sirius looked.

Turning to his godfather he forced him back into his animagus form which would be easier to carry if need be and went to stand by him. He shouted down the hall to attract some Dementors back to him. Meanwhile he vanished the ropes on Macnair, took away the paralysis hex and revived the man.

Macnair, looking like Sirius's double blinked in the darkness and let out a string of uncouth oaths. Just as suddenly he straightened and tensed in terror.

"Where am I? No!" he shouted and Harry felt a hint of pain seeing Sirius's face contorted in fear. The Dementors wasted no time, four moved into the room and towered over Macnair cringing in Sirius's form.

"This one?" They asked with one voice.

"You can have him," Harry answered, and watched for the sake of necessity as the Dementors gave Macnair the kiss, prying his hands away from his face with a gentle gesture which looked unholy in a way.

"Go back. Now!" Harry shouted, beginning to feel his emotions sharpen and come back. He wanted to be away from the creatures before he was fully normal.

Quickly he prepared the body. Taking Macnair's clothes for Sirius and exchanging them with prison robes, he also poured a potion over Macnair from head to toe. It took several bottles worth, but the potion simply absorbed in the skin making the polyjuice transformation permanent.

Sirius Black was dead.

At least no one but the walls would know better it was Macnair who hung for him.

* * *

"All Dementors to the secret passageway. Call the rest," Harry commanded, his hand sweating on the spells he was powering in the notebook sheet.

It was as if they came through the walls, forming out of shadows, hundreds of them. He felt choked by their presence but ordered them around himself and through the Auror stairwells he had taken to get up to the floor. A sea of black fear moved around him and he was easily lost from sight within their tall forms, as was Sirius's dark animagus transformation carried by Harry.

Up ahead he heard a patronus cast, then another, but the sheer number of Dementors in a tight space overwhelmed whatever human wardens were already on the stairs trying to rush up to the top floor. He had ordered them not to feed and so for the moment they simply pushed back the warden who ran ahead feeling their terrors at their tail.

They spilled from the building like a cancerous refuse. Harry caught sight of wizards and a witch forming a loose circle far from the Dementor horde. It was not enough by any measure and soon Harry was under the spot that was the emergency Auror apparition point. Taking off the Anti-Apparation Jinx he popped from existence just as he heard a cacophony of pops around him announcing the arrival of aurors from the Ministry who had finally gotten through.

Harry was home free and with a godfather to boot.

* * *

His destination was a small out of business electronics store a street down from St. Mungo's entrance. Out of date radios and TVs sat in the display behind a grill. Harry saw his own reflection in the smudged and streaked glass. The pale Death Eater mask stood out sharply against the black cloak and dark night, haloed by the street lights behind him. A darker form floated next to him.

Carefully he reached through the grill and the glass as if both obstacles weren't there and turned the knob on the old black and white TV. A man in a lab coat appeared on the screen smoking a pipe.

"Password?" he asked in a posh accent.

"Casablanca," Harry answered.

In answer the grill moved aside and the door inside cracked open. He hurried through hearing the metal grill close behind him. Inside instead of a man in a lab coat, a wizard in green robes waited. He took one look at Harry and the color drained from his face. He stumbled over his feet and into what appeared to be his office chair.

Harry noted the wizard he had caught a couple of decades into the future; he was of medium height and sporting a beard growing in sparse tufts on a childish face. Harry had always thought that it was age that had made the man's facial hair so strange but it seemed even when he was young he still looked odd.

"You know what I am?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Please don't kill me," the red headed wizard begged.

"Alright, if you give me an oath of silence and secrecy and agree to being obliviated after you heal my friend." Harry had known the man was a coward but it was easier than he thought. Usually the black market healer charged a premium in gold for that kind of secrecy; Harry wondered if he would dare to demand the usual payment.

"Anything, anything."

"Very good, Healer Worthright. Yes I do know your real name and why you hide in a muggle shop and who you do business with." Harry stalked to the man who shrank in his chair flattening against the back as if he could push himself right through. "Do right by me, Worthright, and not only will you get to keep your life but also some gold will see its way to your pockets."

The wizard was too shaken to do anything but nod vigorously. Harry dropped Sirius by the desk and took in his surrounding once again to see if anything had changed from what he remembered as he took a swig of polyjuice. The entrance was a bare room with white washed walls. Three doors led off from the side walls and the far back wall against which the desk sat. Harry knew one led to a surgery, another to a three bed ward, and the last to a very, very specialized and well stocked potions lab. Indeed, Healer Worthright's lab was easily the envy of several curse damage specialists at St. Mungo's when they had been brought in to salvage anything of use.

The healer watched him trying not to get caught at trying to see his face as he tilted the mask up to drink the potion. Harry neatly turned away from him and took a bite of chocolate as well.

"Let's bind you to secrecy then," Harry announced, clasping the wizard's clammy hand.

In the next five minutes Harry had Healer Worthright sworn not to speak, write, imply, betray in any deliberate way himself and his orders. Harry levitated Padfoot through to the medical ward making the healer even more nervous that he knew what was behind the door.

Putting the dog on the bed Harry cast the animagus reversal charm revealing his godfather. Sirius looked as if he were simply skin stretched over bone. His long hair was thin and dirty, his cheeks hollowed out to show the bones, a rank smell came from his mouth.

"Who is that?" the healer asked.

"You don't need to know, and if you find out you know to keep your mouth shut. Heal him, make him fighting fit. Give him the best of everything. I know your sister is a wonderful cook, make sure to pay her to for cooking all his meals. I will find out if you don't." Harry reached under his cloak and drew out an envelope. "This is charmed to attract his attention when he wakes up. Don't approach him until he has read this. If he asks how he got here tell him the details of what you and I agreed on. I have to go now."

"Yes, sir." The healer bowed and Harry disapparated to Little Whinging.

* * *

**Lords of Old Bloodlines Disappear: Is You-Know-Who back? **  
_**Earnest D. Magog reports**_  
_  
__The Ministry of Magic fails in keeping its citizens secure as strange disappearances follow last week's murders at Azkaban. Although the mass murder of Azkaban's deadliest inmates by frenzied Dementors did not raise a public outcry, it shows a disturbing pattern of the Ministry's inability to maintain law and order._

_One week from the Azkaban Massacre and three of magical Britain's socialite families have reported their heads missing. The DMLE is without direction as they try to solve the mystery of the Dementors defying Ministry orders and the traceless kidnappings of Lords Malfoy, Nott, and Parkinson._

_A little over a decade ago our world faced the same unsolvable disappearances until a one year-old saved us all. But perhaps this time the cause behind the "kidnappings" is even more sinister than the truth we came to live with in the last dark war._

_The reporter would like to point out a shocking common thread between the recent failures of the Ministry. Every wizard and witch reported missing was indicted in the last war as a Death Eater and released later on appeal of being under influence of the Imperius curse. All inmates attacked in the Azkaban Massacre were convicted Death Eaters. Knowing what connects all the affected parties the following report is even more alarming._

_The reporter would like to reveal exclusive information that the Ministry withheld from the public. On condition of anonymity a warden of Azkaban broke secrecy to report that a wizard or witch in Death Eater robes and mask was at the scene of the massacre and was protected from arrest by a phalanx of Dementors till they escaped._

_You-know-who's merciless ways are well known. It is the belief of this reporter that the prisoners of Azkaban were killed on orders as punishment for not escaping arrest a decade ago. It is also the belief of this reporter that the recent "kidnappings" are no such thing but you-know-who gathering his followers back to himself. The Nott, Malfoy, and Parkinson families are long known for their association with the dark arts._

_There were always those who believed that You-know-who was only defeated and not vanquished that happy Halloween. It seems he has come back in power the year that the peace-herald will be returning to the magical world to begin education at Hogwarts._

_It is auspicious that our hero returns to us in this time. It is the fervent hope of this reporter the Ministry will train our savior instead of diverting its resources to the futile search of alleged kidnappings of known dark wizards and witches. _

Harry cursed reading through the article. He was sitting in his polyjuiced body in the Leaky Cauldron with a shot of fire whiskey. It would just be his luck that the Ministry decided to interfere in his life after the article. Already the mood in the bar was somber. Everywhere people were pointing out the Daily Prophet to their neighbors. One thing was certain, knowing Fudge, that reporter and editor were going to be fired. It was a miracle the article was published in the first place.

The reporter calling him the "peace-herald" was new. He had never been referred to by that title. Somehow it was better than the "chosen one." Other than that the reporter had obviously missed saying anything about the Carrows being found in their home contorted in shapes unrecognizable as human, or that Yaxley had died in a freak animal attack. Oh yes, there were quite a few Death Eaters who had escaped notice all together in the first dark war with Voldemort, but they hadn't escaped him.

Of the inner circle that had appeared in his fourth year only Crabbe and Goyle were still alive. Harry weighed if letting them live played in his favor. As the last two, the lesser Death Eaters were going to turn to them for guidance, knowing they were being hunted. Being dimmest of the inner circle he could easily spy on them and use their blunders to wipe out the rest.

Harry looked at the list left in his hand: Avery Sr., Avery Jr., Thorfinn, Crabbe, Goyle, Crouch Jr., Fenrir Greyback, and Wormtail.

Harry hummed to himself as he suddenly realized that Crabbe and Goyle were not the senior most in the ranks. Avery Sr. was still alive somewhere; and he had been one of the first followers, taken from Tom Riddle's own classmates.

He stretched his arms back experimentally and winced when the skin over his shoulders burned in agony. The Carrows were not easy prey; conjuring fiendfyre and animated barbs without second thought. He had new scars to start off on his largely mark free body. So far he had been lucky having the element of surprise. But the word had gotten out, the last few Death Eaters would be the hardest to kill. They would be expecting someone. Yaxley, an otherwise tough wizard, was taken down easily by the nundu Harry had port-keyed to the large Death Eater's hit wizard office in the Ministry. In the cramped space Yaxley stood no chance and the nundu was sent back to its home with the return port-key hanging around its neck. The Ministry still had no clue what or how it had happened.

Avery Sr., Harry's thoughts came back to the older Death Eater. He did not know much about him besides his status within the ranks. His skills, specialties, magical power, were all unknown to him.

His eyes focused on the heading in the Daily Prophet again and he frowned. He had expected the Ministry to cover it up. He did not want his enemies to be on guard. The years of peace had made them soft and given Harry the advantage to take out fifteen of them. Resolving to move on to the next phase of his plan Harry left the Leaky Cauldron with his head hung low, not meeting any eyes; he did not want to become too recognizable.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy walked with a feeling of peace and bliss to Gringotts. His hood was up but the quality of his robes made others give way before him, imagining correctly that he was a man of some importance and power.

A beady eyed goblin looked up at him and there was flash of recognition and curiosity in his eyes before they settled in their typical occupational insolence.

"The unfortunate demise of my dear sister-in-law has left her vaults in the possession of my wife and myself, I am here to do a," Lucius paused for want of a delicate word, "inventory of her assets. Here is the key."

The goblin led the Malfoy head to the carts and then to the old vaults. He opened the doors and watched as the wizard looked about the small hills of gold, jewels, and heirlooms with disinterest before catching sight of a cup sitting on a shelf. He took a bag from his robes and dropped it over the cup, taking it off the shelf, and hiding it in his cloak in a quick movement.

"The gold and all other assets are to be transferred to the vault of Harry James Potter."

"Sir?" the goblin asked suspiciously, knowing enough about wizard affairs to be wary of large amounts of gold being transferred so callously.

"Do you not understand, _goblin_, empty the vault to Harry James Potter's." Lucius spat venom in his words making the goblin forget his suspicion in favor of hate of all wizard kind.

The goblin snapped its fingers and the wealth simply vanished. "It is done. The transaction is irrevocable."

"Good. Now take me to my vault."

The goblin watched as the wizard yet again ignored all the gold in favor of a red velvet covered diary which he added to the bag with the cup. He waited to be told to transfer the gold as before but this time the dark wizard wanted to be taken back up. It was obvious to the goblin that the wizard was distracted by something.

Wishing with all the viciousness of his little being that the suspected Death Eater would be next in the recent killings the goblin watched Lucius Malfoy leave through the main doors.

* * *

"Thank you, Malfoy. You are very useful." Harry took the bag of horcruxes from Lucius Malfoy.

The Death Eater's lips twitched showing signs of his struggle against the imperius. But Harry had more than one spell working in Malfoy to keep him obedient. A tiny dose of the potion protecting Slytherin's locket was also in Malfoy's blood stream, effectively splitting his mental strength. It was the only way to reliably dominate a dark wizard of his power.

They stood in a dilapidated shack of sorts. The walls and floor were made of earth and stone; rough and unfinished. Remnants of poor furniture were strewn about and one end of the room showed a meager kitchen area. Harry stood in front of blasted wall in the Gaunt residence. A ring could be seen in the debris from where the wall had been blown out.

"Did you successfully set up the meeting with Avery?"

"Yes, my lord," Malfoy answered with proper servility in his bow.

"Good. Now we will cast the killing curse on that ring there and then burn it with fiendfyre. Moderate your spell so you don't destroy what's left of the shack. Hmm?"

"Yes, my lord." Malfoy drew his wand and on Harry's mark cast the killing curse.

Two green beams hit the ring at the same time. In its wake a thin scream came from the ring and died.

"Wait, I think that might've done it." Harry held up his hand before Malfoy could conjure fiendfyre. He had already taken care of the curses protecting the horcrux, and now it seemed that the horcrux was destroyed too. "Go, pick it up."

Malfoy remained unaffected as he picked up the ring. Harry commanded him to think of a dead relative and turn the ring in his hands. Malfoy obeyed and a translucent form of a severe and noble face appeared with a long beard. The family resemblance could be seen in the nose and set of the jaw.

"Bring the ring to me," Harry ordered, watching the summoned spirit regard him with hateful eyes. As soon as the ring passed from Malfoy's hand to Harry's the spirit disappeared.

"Bring the ring to me," Harry ordered, watching the summoned spirit regard him with hateful eyes. As soon as the ring passed from Malfoy's hand to Harry's the spirit disappeared.

An expression of grim satisfaction crossed Harry's face; he was one step closer to being the Master of Death again. He ordered Malfoy to destroy the diary and cup with fiendfyre and watched the mini pyre conjured by the dark wizard. Malfoy showed his skill in molding the fire into a coiling shape that contained its magical heat. When he vanished the flames, little remained of the horcruxes to identify them.

Harry kicked back in a chair on the brink of turning to dust as Malfoy waited at attention. It was a little difficult for him to come up with something fitting for Malfoy's death except that he knew disgrace in some form should be part of it; something that would stain the Malfoy pride.

Yet, it was good having such a capable minion.

There were hundreds of wizards and witches willing to follow him in the last war that he had fought against his son. But they were all close to him in some way, he cared for them.

But Malfoy was a follower he would lose no sleep over sending into the lion's den.

"Thank you, Malfoy. Go back to your family. Make sure you aren't seen in public. Act as if everything is fine and usual. Meet me back here for the meeting with Avery."

"My lord." Malfoy bowed and apparated away.

Harry steepled his fingers and contemplated the scorch marks on the floor of the Gaunts' hovel. Soon he needed magic to make an even more willing servant out of Malfoy. There were things he had discovered as he had come into his powers. Magic subtle and insidious had slowly become his forte in the very last years before the final war had ended.

There was a darker side to the "power he knows not." People followed and did terrible things for love much more loyally than for fear. Harry could manufacture that love if he wanted, give a false sense of it to people he needed to inspire to die for him or become magically greater than they were. The spells and enchantments to empower and enslave others were all of his own creation – that magic was the true reason why he was the Grand Sorcerer; for it was something no other wizard or witch could do.

Perhaps he would enslave Malfoy in the same way, give him a few more years to live before Voldemort's rebirth. Or maybe Malfoy could be useful in the darkness's resurgence after Voldemort was long dead and gone. A dark wizard would find the influence that had turned his son into the terror the magical world had forgotten better than a light wizard. For surely Harry himself had failed.

"Small wonder why you had so many minions, Tom."

* * *

Privet Drive looked hot, humid, and uninviting as usual. Harry sighed blowing the fringe of his hair from his eyes. A glass of Vernon's whiskey sat at his elbow and he took a drink from the bottle, forgoing the glass. It wasn't yet noon but the memories of his once happy family were too much to handle waking. There wasn't a dreamless potion for when one was awake, except alcohol.

After Vernon had opened up about his feelings of inadequacy and cried over his shoulder shaking like a blubberous pachyderm Harry had had enough of the Unctuous Unction and stopped drugging his relatives. The bedroom that was in part his potions lab was under muggle repellants and other notice-me-not charms. The door he had long transfigured into a wall so if any magical person was to walk by it in the hallway they wouldn't know of the room either. The likelihood was low but Harry had long ago started taking precautions for the least likely things happening.

Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were back to thinking he slept in the cupboard under the stairs and were on the whole very embarrassed about being so chummy with him for the better part of the summer.

With almost everything he needed to do before Hogwarts done, Harry was with time on his hands that he had no way to spend but in the drink. His green eyes were dull and black circles were under his eyes. It was the day before his birthday and not a single Hogwarts letter had arrived. He had even cast the very complex enchantment to check the strength of the wards on the house and had been shocked to find the ward wasn't there. He expected it had fallen the day he had traveled back in time but why Dumbledore hadn't shown up as soon as the ward had dissipated he could not fathom.

To top it all off having to spend time as a ten year old undernourished kid was wearing him down. He had spent as much time as he could polyjuiced because he felt more comfortable in an older body, but with excuses to use the potion dwindling he did not have that odd comfort either.

Avery had postponed their meeting twice. Harry decided after having Malfoy tell him about Avery's background that he wanted the senior death eater under his influence instead of dead. With Avery and Malfoy he could coerce, bribe, and command those parts of the magical world Dumbledore had no respect in. After all he had done nearly everything he had to do to prepare for the confrontations with Voldemort, he had to move on to destroying the roots of what the Daily Prophet of his time had called the War of the Dark Son.

Draco Malfoy's group, the faction Umbridge belonged to; they were next on his list for they had played the greatest role in supporting the Dark Son. Harry spat at the name and took a deep pull from the bottle. When it was time he would have Lucius and Avery torture Umbridge and her cronies to death, but till then he needed them to find out as much about the people behind her. They hadn't had the balls to follow Voldemort when he was on the rise but once he was gone they had made ground an inch at a time, taking the Ministry by one law, one easement, and one post. Until there was no way to separate friend from foe – it was like what old Arthur Weasley used to tell them about the first war.

Another swig of the heavy glass bottle and he washed down the memories of his torn family with it. _Where is that damned letter?_

* * *

Healer Worthright gave the report in his usual terrified manner. Sirius was improving slowly physically but mentally was leaps and bounds ahead of his body. Apparently he had been doing magic nonstop with the wand Harry had procured for him, even though it did not suit him well. Healer Worthright mentioned again that it would take years for Sirius to recover completely. _Really, the man is such a nag. It's as if he wants to get rid of me._

"Has he tried to leave yet?" Harry modulated his voice so it sounded closer to something coming out of the middle aged muggle's mouth.

"No, he wanted to go out but I told him it was dangerous. I took him to the garden my sister keeps in the back. When she wasn't there, of course," he added quickly at Harry's sharp look. "Will you see him today? He is very curious about you."

"I don't know," Harry replied in a faraway voice as he studied the door behind which Sirius was treated.

He hadn't had the courage to face the man since he had rescued him out of prison. It was as if seeing him would break the floodgates of grief he staved away with drink, distraction, and a healthy dose of murdering Death Eaters. The last were running low.

There was also the matter of the story he was going to feed the man; he didn't have it figured out. The letter he had left him said enough to tell him that he was under the care of the Order of the Phoenix and must not try to leave because he was being hunted. Harry had also added that they were aware that it was Peter Pettigrew who was responsible for the Potters' deaths and that he wasn't a Death Eater or traitor. It had also told him that someone in the guise of a Death Eater had broken him out so not to be alarmed. The fact Sirius had been patient this long without contact from anyone he knew was amazing. But then again the wizard had survived Azkaban with his mind intact. There was more to him than anyone had ever given him credit for.

No one had understood what it was like being locked away. It was the last thing he wanted to do to Sirius, and here he was doing the same to him because he was too afraid to see a dead man he had loved as a father and brother.

"Yes, I want to see him."

* * *

Sirius was lying asleep on the floor under the windows bathed in sunlight. There was a bed and couch in the room but he looked completely content on the carpeted floor. Plain white pajamas covered his malnourished body, hiding the painfully thin legs and arms Harry had already seen in Azkaban. Strangely he was shaved completely from head to chin, though there was light fuzz there.

"Skin diseases and discoloration because of the prison's conditions. I shaved him to treat him," Worthright explained when Harry mimed shaving his hair and beard and pointing to Sirius.

Harry couldn't recognize his godfather as he softly treaded closer to him. He sat down against the wall on the floor next to him, waiting for him to wake. Worthright discreetly left the room.

The door clicked behind Healer Worthright and suddenly there was a wand pointed at Harry's heart. Not knowing he had, Harry's own wand was out and marking Sirius who had propped himself up on an elbow to aim at him.

"You're fast," Sirius said with a whistle.

"And you're a sneaky bastard who could've gotten his head blown off!" Harry snapped lowering his wand. _My head!_ He lamented feeling the hang over. Drawing a flask of whiskey from his pocket he pulled on it to ease his head ache.

"You better be sharing that, mate. I haven't had any for ten years." Sirius sat cross legged looking greedy. Harry passed the flask over wondering what the healer would say.

Sirius's Adam's apple bobbed as he threw his head back to empty the flask down his throat. He smacked his thin lips having drunk all the contents.

"Merlin, if I had a woman now I would die a happy man!" he exclaimed happily falling back on his back holding the empty flask to his chest.

"Too much information." Harry winced, not really interested in seeing Sirius as a man with needs. Being over forty that type of conversation wasn't new to him, he just didn't expect it from his godfather who he had an idealized memory of.

"You think so? How about I tell you even my hand hasn't seen any action in a decade. Dementors can kill your libido faster than seeing your grandmother in the nude." Sirius sighed happily, shaking the flask over his open mouth to get the last drops out.

Harry pulled a disgusted face. "That's absolutely revolting."

"Tell me about it. My hand refuses to speak to me now. What's a man whose own hand abandons him?"

"I think you need another drink." Harry snorted.

"So who are you? What is happening with the Order? How did you find out the truth? And when the hell do I get out of here?"

"I am…Neville," Harry lied using the name he had since his early teens when he was going incognito. "I don't know what is happening with the Order, I am just an agent. Don't show up for meeting or anything. I don't know how we found out the truth about you. And you can get out whenever you want, as long as it is to someplace far away where you can heal and not be recognized."

"Well you don't have many answers do you?" Sirius's good cheer was gone, and there was a frown on his sunken face.

"I'm just an agent."

"Yeah, Dumbledore always ran things that way, didn't he? No one knew what the other was doing. I thought he might've changed tactics after the disaster of the last war," Sirius derided, sitting up again.

The revelation about what the Order had been like was new to Harry. The Order as he had known in his school years was very inclusive with "round the kitchen table" meetings. Apparently Dumbledore had learned from too much secrecy.

"I hear Voldemort is back?" Sirius asked.

"Not completely. He is a spirit right now, doesn't have a body. But the Daily Prophet thinks he's back."

"They think he broke into Azkaban but that was you. That means it was you who killed Voldemort's bitch Bella. I owe you for that."

"Don't mention it," Harry muttered remembering the insane woman's dying laughter.

"Means you've been killing all the bastards who managed to stay out of Azkaban too," Sirius breathed out and shrugged as if he were talking about Harry running an errand.

Harry hadn't thought of Sirius having enough information to make that simple connection and wondered what the man thought about it.

"Wouldn't have minded giving you a hand with it, but looks like you got them all," Sirius offered.

"There's still work to be done," Harry thought out loud.

"This is not Dumbledore's way. So either you're not from the Order or Dumbledore is not running it anymore. Let's start with the basics again then: who are you?"

"I thought you were meant to be slow and driven mad after being locked up in Azkaban." Harry felt a knot in his stomach as he bought himself time to think.

"I am Sirius Black, right hand of Voldemort, didn't you know? Powers unimaginable etc. etc," sarcasm dripped from his voice. "So who are you and why did you save me?" Sirius's wand was sitting in his lap pointed toward Harry with his hand resting on the handle.

Harry tossed him his own wand in show of trust. "Alright, fine. I don't answer to Dumbledore. I am not part of the Order yet, but I will be. I can't tell you who I am. But I can tell you that I work for your godson."

"I don't have a godson," Sirius interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't have a godson. Who'd be daft enough to make me a godfather?"

"Harry Potter is your godson. Your best friend's son?"

"Oh! Well James wanted to make me his children's godfather but you know in the end blood won out. Did they make out alright? I still remember…that night. Lily and James dead, the kids' crying." Sirius hung his head, his eyes shut against his memories. "It's my fault they're dead."

Harry wanted to ask what he had been babbling about 'blood winning out' and the plural 'children' but couldn't make himself demand anything from the aggrieved man. He suspected Sirius was somewhat mentally damaged from Azkaban and it would take him time to regain himself.

"You didn't betray them, Sirius," Harry quietly comforted the man.

"I made them make Wormtail the secret keeper! I did that!" Sirius shouted at Harry, spittle falling from his lips.

Harry had nothing he could say to that. Sirius pulled his knees up to himself and turned so his back was to Harry. It seemed that he was done talking. Harry took his wand back from where it had rolled off Sirius's lap.

"I guess I'll go then," Harry said standing up.

"Wait. You said you work for James' son. How can that be, he's probably eight or nine?" Sirius asked not looking at him.

"Ten, he's ten. No, actually, he turned eleven day before yesterday. He is waiting for his Hogwarts letter," Harry corrected.

"But how can you be working for an eleven year old?"

Harry didn't answer for sometime, trying to think of a reasonable explanation. "A long time ago Lily and James Potter saved my life. I never got to repay my life debt. So now I watch out for their son."

"A guardian Death Eater." Sirius scoffed.

"Never was a Death Eater. Just a disguise. Sirius, I'll arrange some money. You and Healer Worthright should go away somewhere you can be outside in the sun. Harry would want that."

"I'd like to see him and Bianca. Ask for their forgiveness. Before I go." Sirius looked to him. He looked broken, shaved, thin, and ill.

"I'll bring him soon," Harry said in way of goodbye when Sirius looked away again.

* * *

It was past midnight, all was quiet on Privet Drive. Harry watched cats gather inside the halo of light under streetlamps. He played with a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion in his hands, rolling it between his fingers. More than a week had passed his birthday and yet there wasn't a single letter or owl.

He was unspeakably weary. Of waiting, of fighting, of being the last survivor, and most of all of the memories. The Resurrection Stone hung around his neck but he hadn't used it for fear of falling to temptation of always summoning his loved ones. The terrible truth was that his children were unborn in this time; he couldn't even summon their spirits to ease his heart with. His wife was a nine year old girl; more concerned with her brothers leaving her behind when they went off to play than keeping the family she had made with him happy and together.

Andromeda Tonks who had been a companion in pain and in raising Teddy all those years in the future didn't even know him. At least she still had her husband and child; that gave Harry some peace. He had come to care for her deeply as they had awkwardly tried to be friends despite their age gap. He dearly wished he could talk to her now. Share what he was feeling without having to say a single word because that is how well they had come to know each other. He could use a friend – any friend.

He pushed off the chair he had pulled up to the window of his room to look out of. A long table sat flush against one wall on which his potions blue trunk sat with cauldrons simmering. The potions to lower inhibitions and weaken the mind were well on their way. Malfoy had successfully captured the Avery father and son, locking them away in his manor. Harry hadn't wanted the son but it was a fortunate turn of events, he needed a scapegoat.

Soon he would have both Malfoy and Avery Sr. enthralled. The potions were to make them just a bit more susceptible to his special brand of magic. It was a precaution but not necessary. After all he did not need the potion for Narcissa Malfoy because she didn't hate him nearly as much as her husband and Avery Sr. did. She would be much easier to enthrall.

Satisfied that his potions did not need anything added more for the night Harry walked to the window sill where he had left the vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion. He unstoppered the brownish vial but stopped when he brought it to his lips. Something had caught his attention.

Under the same streetlamps as the cats had gathered in the light of, stood a small figure.

"What's a kid doing outside in the middle of the night? What's a kid wearing a cloak doing across the street from where I live? Curious, very curious," Harry mimicked Ollivander's mannerisms.

In another instant he was flying down the steps having charmed his feet to be noiseless and went out the back door to circle around to the front. He quickly disillusioned himself as he crossed the corner of the house to find the child was still standing there. _Unless it's a goblin. Not likely for a goblin to be in a muggle neighborhood. Not likely for wizard children in cloaks to be here either. _

He carefully approached the small figure, despite being charmed against detection. The kid was about his height and as slight as him, which disturbed him because it reminded him how small he was again. He drew close enough to tell it was a girl in the wash of the streetlamp.

"What do I say? Hey I'm your sister here to save you from magic hating muggles? Yeah, that will work great. He would probably scream ghost or something and then they'd call those please-men. Oh Hell! Maybe I should just kidnap him and explain later," she whispered to herself, looking at the door of Privet Drive intensely.

She was chewing on her finger in a nervous manner. Despite himself and what he had just heard Harry felt warmth in his heart, it reminded him so much of Lily Luna. Poor Lily Luna, who was long ago murdered. So the girl was definitely a witch. She didn't say more but Harry could tell she was thinking hard.

Only two people she could be the sister of in his house, either his or Dudley's, and he knew for a fact that neither of them had a sister. Seeing her try and kidnap one of them would be funny. Even if she could do magic, she was still probably as old as he was in body: eleven; hardly capable of anything serious.

But she was a mystery and Harry wanted to solve it. He stepped a little behind her and took off the charm.

"Hello," he greeted nicely.

She shrieked.

Suddenly it was all a bad idea.

She jumped, whirling around with her wand. Harry was quicker and slapped her wrist away before she could point the wand at him. The hood fell back revealing a head of dark hair on a pale face. _She's a cute kid, a lot like Lily Luna_, Harry thought with a pang.

"Why are you staring at my house?" Harry asked in his best curious child voice while holding on to her wand arm.

She was breathing hard and looked absolutely shocked.

"Calm down. I'm going to let you go, don't do anything…silly," Harry said letting her arm go.

She quickly hid the wand in a pocket and raised her hood back. Then she took a couple of deep breaths.

"Merlin, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing out at night?" she scolded.

"Excuse me? At least I am in my neighborhood. What are you doing out alone with a stick in your pocket?" Harry matched her tone thinking it was child-like to be believable.

"Oh! I've stuffed this up." She slapped her head in a curiously adult mannerism.

"Well, why don't we start with introductions?" Harry offered.

"You're awfully calm for a kid," she said. Before Harry could call her on the comment, she gave her name, "I'm Bianca."

"I'm Harry," he said mechanically, remembering Sirius's last words to him. He had wanted to ask his and Bianca's forgiveness. This was getting stranger by the minute.

They shook hands and something leapt between them, Harry recognized it at once as his prophesied power. Golden light shimmered in the air around them and runic characters twinkled brightly before disappearing on their skins. Harry knew those symbols to be the same that were used to set up the ward around the Dursley's house. He had studied Dumbledore's use of the ancient magic later in his life. Somehow something like that had spontaneously happened between Bianca and him.

"Wow," she breathed. "That didn't happen last time."

"Yeah, wow." Harry said flatly, taking his hand back. "What last time?"

She looked like she had been caught in the cookie jar. "Never mind, nothing. Aren't you surprised?" she asked suspiciously.

"Bloody Hell! Of course I'm surprised. But it's not the first surprise tonight so I'm getting used to it. Now what did you mean by last time, and don't lie to me again."

"You're really confidant," she said admiringly. "If I didn't know about mag-…uh, I guess it doesn't matter right now.

Harry waited, knowing she was about to say 'magic.' "You know, it's really stupid for two kids to be standing alone outside at night for anyone to be able to see. Come with me."

Harry turned and walked back to the house. He saw her hesitate behind him and then follow. He took her inside the house and to the kitchen where he poured her a glass of water. She whispered a 'thanks' and they sat in the darkness at the kitchen table.

"Won't your relatives hear us?" she whispered.

"No," Harry answered shortly. "So you're Bianca who makes golden light appear when she shakes hands, and it 'didn't happen the last time.'"

"Okay. It's sort of good that happened because you might believe me now." She took a deep breath. "I'm your sister who you were separated from. I went to live with our Dad's sister and you were sent to live with our Mom's sister. I know you've suffered. They made you live in a cupboard and when you get too big they will put you in the basement with the boiler. I know they never celebrate your birthdays and give you anything for Christmas. I know they told you our parents were drunks and criminals, they weren't," she vehemently corrected.

She took another deep breath as if right before the plunge and Harry was afraid she was going to ramble again. However she spoke more calmly next, "I know you've always wanted someone to come take you away from them; someone who was kind to you and loved you. I'm here to do that. I want to take you away."

Even with all his experience and age, Harry felt alarmed by the things she was saying, and not a little panicked that she knew his past so deeply. No one knew about his home life, not yet anyway. Besides what she had said about the Dursleys moving him to the basement she was spot on with everything else. The quickly apparent fact that she didn't act or speak like any eleven year old he had ever known made him very suspicious too. If it hadn't been his secret power reacting to her the way it had he would've thought she was a Death Eater using Polyjuice and staging the whole thing.

"How do you know all that?" He couldn't keep how much she had unsettled him out of his voice.

"Remember how I said 'it didn't happen last time'? Well, I think you can say that I knew you in another lifetime and you told me." She gave a weak smile.

"Like reincarnation?"

"Something like that." She nodded excitedly.

Harry leaned back in his chair and wondered how he could ask the next question without giving away he knew about magic. _Was she a seer?_ No, he couldn't ask her that yet. His mind went to the tiny cauldron of Veritaserum waiting upstairs to be used. But again the blood ward of Lily's sacrifice that Bianca had triggered made him reluctant to use the typical stun, truth-serum, obliviate, or S.T.O procedure for clandestine interrogations.

"What are you thinking," she asked worriedly.

"Wondering why if you're my sister we don't live together. Why did you go to Dad's sister and I had to live with Petunia?"

"Umm that might be a long story." She actually twisted her cloak in her hands looking every bit the little girl she was, and Harry was struck again how unlike a child she was besides her nervous gestures. _Might be a Seer, mentally mature but emotionally still a child._

"I want to know," Harry demanded simply.

She nodded reluctantly. "There were some very bad people after me after Mum and Dad died," she started sadly. "It was safer for you to be away from me. If they found me they would've tried to hurt both of us. So we were split up. Dad's sister, our Aunt can fight those bad people, so I went with her."

A cold shudder went through Harry. "I want to see your face. Can you take off your hood?" He got up to turn on the kitchen light.

She did as he asked but there wasn't a scar on her head where he dreaded he would see one. In the light she looked at him seriously from hazel eyes under dark lashes. Her hair was jet black and wavy, tied back in a pony tail that left her face clear. The face was less round than most children's; her jaw line was fairly angular with a narrow chin softened by baby fat. It was that which had reminded so much of his daughter Lily Luna; she had the same jaw line, same as his own.

Vernon snored loudly above and her head snapped to the staircase behind her; Harry saw the scar and his heart sped up as cold sweat broke out on his brow. From under her ear lobe to the hollow of her neck the lightning bolt stretched on her right.

"I think they're waking up," she whispered urgently, leaning forward on the table. "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Nothing," Harry choked out. "Don't worry, they can sleep through an earthquake."

He poured a glass of water for himself and flicked the light switch off to ease the girl's mind about being found by his relatives. Sitting down at the table he thought furiously about something to say that wouldn't tip her off that he had reacted to her scar.

He thought furiously if things had happened how he feared they might when he had first sat down in the vat of potions to bring him back in time – was it possible he really _had_ split his word into dimensions and ended up in the new one? No one was meant to come this far, no one. It was always a danger, a risk he had accepted that he might not really be able to go back and fix things, that he might end up in a new world created because he messed with time. The implication that he wouldn't be able to save his children; his sons, and daughter, crushed him. He was numb.

"Hey," she said sweetly rubbing his back in a circle. "It's okay."

Harry hadn't even noticed when she had stood up and come next to him.

"Things will get better now, I promise," she said with a smile.

Harry shook his head no. He knew they could never get better. He could never save them.

They were all dead.

He had been dreaming that he could save them.

"I have to go to the bathroom." His voice was scratchy from the tightness in his throat.

"Okay, I'll be here." Her face was a picture of engaging worry. He ran from her.

Transfiguring a door in the wall he walked into his room and went straight for the Veritaserum and that took a shot of firewhiskey. After the numbness had set in from the shock of seeing the scar on her neck, his unemotional and rational side knew he had to verify what he feared had happened. The best source for that was sitting downstairs.

He stopped in the bathroom on the way down to splash cold water on his face. A glance at his drawn face in the mirror told him he still had the scar on his head. He rearranged his hair like he usually had it to hide the mark and went downstairs.

She wasn't in the kitchen.

Harry ran to the door on his tip toes but it was shut and he couldn't see her through the window over the kitchen sink by the door either. He went back into the house thinking that maybe she was looking for the loo too.

The door to the cupboard under the stairs was open. Harry crept closer and saw a pair of buckle-shoed feet on the edge of his cot. The rest of her was hidden in the gloom.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Wanted to know what it was like," she answered, upset.

Something about what she said made him very angry. It was as if his life was on display; a ride she was taking at his expense. "Get out."

She shuffled out into the moonlight. "I'm sorry."

_She's just a curious child, Harry, get over it and grow up,_ he chastised himself. "I'm sorry too. Come, I'll make us some tea."

They returned to the kitchen and she took her place on the table. Harry put the kettle on the boil and gathered cups and tea, filling the awkward silence. Harry felt held back from doing magic to speed up the process by the chance that there was a Trace on her. He had seen her wand, if she had bought it at Ollivanders any magic around her would be picked up.

He poured six drops of veritserum in the tea cup, compensating for dilution, and overcompensating for the off chance she could resist the potion. He brought her the cup and she thanked him quietly. Choosing to sit by her instead of across from her he waited for her to take her first few sips.

"What's your full name?" he asked when he could see she had a little in her.

"Bianca Harley Potter," she answered promptly.

"Who are your parents?"

"James and Lily Potter were my parents," she answered again without hesitation, apparently enjoying the tea.

"How do you know so much about my life?" And that was the big question.

"I met you in the future in my fifth year at Hogwarts. My Aunt had died and the professors told me about my squib brother, then you died taking a killing curse for me but you shared everything that happened to you with me." She finally realized something was odd and tried to shake her head to get rid of the buzzing sensation that came with being drugged with Veritaserum.

Harry had paused mid-sip with surprise at her revelation. "If we meet in the future, how do you know everything now? Are you a Seer?"

"No. I was blasted back in time when a Death Eater cast the killing curse at me and the prophecy ball exploded." She put the cup down and bolted from the chair, trying to escape because she couldn't stop speaking the truth.

Harry was too stunned to give chase right away. By the time he got outside the house, she was nowhere in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A.N. All Unapologies for clichés apply

Harry stood in his polyjuiced muggle body outside the Gaunt hovel looking out far at the Riddle Manor visible just above the crest of the hill. He had a deep frown on his face that betrayed the storm in his mind. After the initial emotional shock of the visit from Bianca and what it meant for his mission he was focusing on gathering knowledge of the world he had landed in or created. It was something to distract him from his monumental failure, once again, to save his family.

He was so angry with himself that he had cancelled his visit to check on Sirius and instead contacted Malfoy to meet him at day break. At first he did mean to run to his godfather and demand a history lesson on his family's background, but he did not want to make him suspicious. He needed someone who wouldn't question him or form an unfavorable opinion that could become a disadvantage. For that there was no better than an enemy under his control. A crack announced Lucius Malfoy appearance with a man tied in ropes alongside him.

"My lord," he greeted in his perfect delivery that spoke just enough deference without complete obsequiousness. Harry, one for always presenting himself as he was, still admired the man's skill. However, Malfoy's ability to resist the imperius had steadily decreased to the point now that he was almost a mindless slave; and Harry needed more than that.

"Malfoy, bring him inside." His second hand cloak caught around his legs as wind blew into him and he was glad to be anywhere inside.

Harry looked at the time on his watch hand, realizing he had only a few more minutes before he reverted to his young body. That was part of the plan. He intended to enthrall Malfoy and Avery Sr. as Harry Potter and not Neville the somewhat anonymous Death Eater.

"Drink these." He handed two vials to Malfoy to weaken his mind and will.

He administered the same to Avery Sr. who was lying stunned on the earth floor as he observed the Death Eater for the first time. The man had gray hair on his temples and a face that showed age in its lines and sagging flesh. For all that he was a sturdy looking man, heavy set but carrying it over his whole body instead just on his middle. For a sixty or seventy year old wizard he looked in very decent shape. From what Harry remembered of Avery Jr. he hadn't inherited his father's looks.

He felt the change coming and went behind the kitchen area where he had left clothes that would fit his eleven year old body. Changing into them and putting on his glasses he came out watching Malfoy for a reaction. He was mildly disappointed that the dark wizard didn't even flinch, but then again it was a testament to his power.

Harry pressed the point of his wand in the middle of Malfoy's chest, who did not react and stayed waiting dutifully. A string of repeating Latin came from Harry's lips in a whisper as he felt the stirring of his secret magic. Somewhere in the Department of Mysteries where they observed that terrible power it moved in sudden agitation, like a great beast's spasming muscles. Harry felt the power move in him the same way and come to the point of overwhelming him where he coaxed it to his will. The power heeled, recognizing it was home in a human body. Far away the locked room under the Ministry shook. The Unspeakables heard it twist like a storm gathering strength but before they could raise the alarm Harry summoned it all.

The worn furniture of the Gaunt hovel shattered and the ground heaved as Harry spindled the taciturn power in himself and then with his hand and wand. As a wave he entered Malfoy's soul, searching for what inspired him, what formed his will, the source of his happiness, and bound all of it to himself in devotion and abject loyalty.

The earth had lifted Malfoy so that he floated on a mound of undulating rock and soil within which the golden power slipped and shone. As many fine threads it reached out from Harry's wand and the fluxing ground beneath Malfoy to enter him through his eyes and his heart, rebuilding his mind and soul to belong to Harry. Memories were changed, loyalty cultivated in mere seconds, reason remapped to obey Harry, and finally it made him into a vessel for Harry's power. So when Harry needed he could empower his thrall to become much more and reflect the awesome devastation he the Grand Sorcerer of his time could bring to bear on his enemies.

Harry withdrew and the earth settled. The power retracted within but seemed to frolic in the forefront of his mind; it brought a true smile to Harry's face. The power was everything from affection, and healing, to the force of cataclysms.

Malfoy blinked as if he were waking up. He drew his wand in readiness and looked around finding himself somewhere he did not recognize. Then he saw Harry and for a moment a look of bewilderment passed over his face before he kneeled. It was if the gesture was more to reach a level of closeness with him instead of servility.

"My lord, where are we? It seems there was an attack here. Are you well?" he asked in a concerned yet respectful voice. Harry was used to hearing this from his followers, the ones who he truly cared about. And here he had one in which he had manufactured that devotion like which people had given him willingly.

"Yes, my thrall. Now tell me everything you know about the fall of Voldemort and Bianca Harley Potter and her family."

* * *

Not for the first time Harry knew what it was like to be outside of Dumbledore's circle of confidants, but he had never been so far from finding the truth before. It seemed that Dumbledore kept what had happened Halloween night at the Potter home so very secret that even as well informed a Death Eater as Malfoy was he had only guesses for him.

"The Dark Lord shared his intention to destroy your family and was insulted at the thought that a half-blood girl was to be his match. It was his Hidden Hand, Mortfidèle, who brought him Pettigrew the Potter's secret keeper. After that we do not know what happened, except your sister survived the killing curse and the Dark Lord was vanquished. We hunted for her but she was hidden so quickly and completely we could not find her. Many are curious to know if she will attend Hogwarts this year."

"Do you know why Voldemort did not attack me?" Harry asked watching Malfoy flinch at his old master's name.

"The Dark Lord's Hidden Hand had already looked in the book recording magical children's births at Hogwarts to report that the male child was not listed. At best he could have been a squib." Malfoy shrugged. "It is obvious now that Mortfidèle was terribly mistaken. I do not know how a wizard of your power could have not been recorded in the book."

Harry had already learned that he did in fact have an aunt on his father's side. From Malfoy's knowledge she was a particularly gifted Arithmancer and was being recruited by both the Department of Mysteries and treasure hunters.

"Who is this Hidden Hand you keep mentioning?"

"Mortfidèle or The Hidden Hand was the Dark Lord's enforcer against his own Death Eaters. One day he did not exist, the next he stood at the Dark Lord's back, his first and favorite. My sister-in-law despised how he had usurped her position.

"We never understood his position fully. I have seen him tortured worse than any other Death Eater by the Dark Lord's own wand and I have seen him spoken to as an equal by the Dark Lord as well. I have long suspected that there was not one but two Mortfidèle. It is no doubt that Mortfidèle's power and skill were great. He had magic I had seen only the Dark Lord himself perform," Malfoy's voice held respect and remembered fear of the wizard.

"And he was the one who brought Pettigrew to Voldemort?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes. Rumors were that Pettigrew was found out as a Death Eater and forced into an Unbreakable bond by Potter's pet werewolf to not reveal the location. Pettigrew was on the run from both sides until the Dark Lord sent Mortfidèle."

"Hmm, Mortfidèle? Sounds a lot like an assumed name. Was it meant to sound close to Voldemort?"

"I do not know, my lord, but the Dark Lord drew some amusement from calling The Hidden Hand that name."

"And where is this Death Eater amongst Death Eaters now?" Harry demanded knowing he would be someone he would need to kill fast.

"He disappeared with the Dark Lord's fall. We expected him to lead us after him but he simply vanished. No one knew what he looked like, what his true identity was. It is possible he leads a life untainted by his past. All my inquiries have turned up dust."

"And what if he suddenly appeared, Malfoy? Would that test your loyalty to me?" Harry expected a favorable answer, he wasn't disappointed.

"My lord! I desire only to serve you. My loyalty is to you only!"

"Hush, Malfoy. I believe you. It seemed you were in awe of this Mortfidèle."

"He was an exceptionally powerful wizard, even amongst the inner circle."

"Very well. Now are you still on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. I want you to inquire why I haven't been sent a letter. Do it in such a way that it is not found out that you are the source. I trust you have enough contacts in whose ears you can whisper what you need?"

"But of course, my lord." Lucius smiled pleased with himself.

"I wish to meet your wife, she will brought into my inner circle with you. Also, begin to educate your son to respect my family and my commands. I warn you now, the day Draco takes Voldemort's mark is the day I will kill him."

"My lord!" Malfoy stood up in worry.

"You will do this or he will die. There are no alternatives." Harry let loose some of the power waiting in his mind and it slapped against Malfoy making him cringe.

"Yes, my lord."

"Also, for Merlin's sake, stop calling me 'my lord.'"

Malfoy seemed genuinely confused by Harry's request. He did not understand that while Harry had wanted a loyal and dispensable servant, he did not want to be worshipped. It bothered him to his core, much more than having subjugated the dark wizard to himself.

"What would be an appropriate way to address you, my…" Malfoy trailed off in uncharacteristic discomfort.

"Not my name, obviously. I can't have you be in the habit of using my real name and slipping up. Think of something, anything that isn't too grand and doesn't point to me." Harry made a dismissive gesture.

"Of course," Malfoy was careful not to add an honorific, pleasing Harry.

"Now go, make certain that the book at Hogwarts is checked again and my letter sent to me. And if you hear of any planned attack on my family, inform me immediately and thwart it. Take Avery with you, I do not have time for him."

* * *

As Neville the Death Eater pretender, Harry walked with Sirius to Grimmauld Place. His godfather was wearing a long muggle overcoat that hid his weak body and a cowboy hat low on his head to hide his face. He had been excited to leave Healer Worthright's shop. But Harry was still concerned about what the black market healer had told him.

Apparently Sirius had taken a turn for the worse after he had visited him. He seemed to struggle with renewed nightmares and spoke to himself in an angry and abrasive way. Healer Worthright had withdrawn his earlier diagnosis that Sirius had come out of Azkaban mostly sane.

It added one more concern to Harry's growing list. He had gone to visit Sirius immediately after meeting with Lucius. He had hoped that seeing his godfather would make it easier for him to think of questions he could ask to glean more about Bianca and his absentee aunt. But nothing had occurred to him.

There was also the matter of getting Sirius out of the country before his patience ran out and he escaped on his own. But before that Harry needed Slytherin's locket. Knowing that Voldemort had as capable a servant as Mortfidèle, Harry did not want to risk any of the horcruxes being found by him. He did have to wonder what Mortfidèle had been up to all this time.

He glanced at Sirius to find him happily looking at trees, cars, and other usual things. His heart lightened somewhat. They reached the door and Sirius walked through without any trouble. Harry had known better than to try that himself; the old house had enough wards and curses on it to keep a curse breaker team happy for a decade. Grimmauld was just as Harry remembered, dark, depressing, and thoroughly uninviting.

"I can smell my mother's perfume still. Merlin, I hate this place." Sirius said with feeling.

"I am sorry, but we really need something from here." Harry as Neville led into the house and up the stairs, encouraging Sirius with his own motion to get moving. He did not like how Sirius had frozen in thought; his godfather did not have good memories of his childhood home.

Harry climbed to the second floor to Mrs. Black's bedroom where the locket rested in a French armoire. Turning the knob of the door cautiously he entered recalling the late Mrs. Black's penchant for cursing and hexing everything in sight for fear of it being touched by less than purebloods.

A loud pop behind him made him jump and whirl around.

"Who disturbs-" the rest of the sentence was interrupted by a deafening bang.

Harry ran down the stairs to find Sirius halfway up clutching his heart, his wand pointed at a mess of blood, flesh, and indistinguishable gore.

"Son of a bitch!" Sirius roared. "Scared the piss out of me." He was breathing fast with a steadying hand on his chest.

"Sirius, what the hell just happened?" Harry demanded, alarmed himself.

"My mother's cursed house elf. Creepy bastard crept up on me," Sirius complained. "Oh shit," he said disgustedly looking at the remains.

"Creepy bastards creep, that is what they do, Sirius. You don't kill them for it," Harry chided patiently though his heart wasn't it.

"Fucking place puts me on edge. Merlin, I didn't even get to enjoy that."

"Yeah, me too. Now let's do both of us a favor and keep that lucky reflex killing tic in your pants." Harry gave a repressive glare.

"Hmm. That's not what _she_ said." Sirius grinned up at him.

"You're ill, Sirius, disturbingly ill." Harry turned to go back up.

He heard Sirius follow chuckling. He came to stand beside him as Harry contemplated the once white armoire. He could see the locket through it and was listing in his mind the order of spells to break the minor and major jinxes placed on it.

"I didn't mean to do that," Sirius confided regretfully.

Harry shrugged. "It happens." He was concentrating on getting the horcrux out.

"I suppose with _you _'it happens.'"

Harry let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I don't know what else to tell you. I'm not broken up about it, you definitely aren't going to miss the elf who terrorized you on your mother's orders. Can we please look at this as closure with your mother and move on?"

Bianca's visit had left Harry more frayed than he admitted. Finding out she was telling the truth from Malfoy had made it worse. Knowing he had failed his family was cutting him up inside and the best he could do was focus on bringing Voldemort down. In face of all that Kreacher's death and Sirius's guilt over it was laughable to him.

Sirius frowned next to him, a dark look set on his face in the shadowed room. Harry resolved to apologize to him later when he was feeling more mature about being insensitive and raised his wand to cast some general counter curses.

"Neville?"

"Yes?" Harry continued with revealing charms, judging the presence of hexes by the splotches of color appearing on the armoire.

"What is closure?"

Harry clapped his eyes at Sirius and despite himself burst out laughing. "You not knowing what closure is, explains so much." It felt good to let go of the tension.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded, not a little miffed.

"Nothing, nothing. I shouldn't be surprised you haven't heard of the idea before. It just means putting things in the past, to get over it, lock it away, say it's done and move on. Now can I please get back to work?"

"Should've just said 'get over it, Sirius' and I'd have understand you." Sirius shot him a moody look, still a little raw from Harry's comments.

"Noted." And Harry went back to wiping the magic in the display armoire. "Well this is tougher than it should be. I need some light."

"Here," Sirius offered lighting his wand making the room awash in magic.

"Thank you. You know what, I am too irritated to do this with finesse. _Concedo!_" The power Harry had summoned from the depths of Department of Mysteries tore at the extremely dark protection enchantments making the armoire shudder. Only a few years ago a power spell like that would have destroyed his target instead of simply ripping the magic away.

"Impressive. You destroyed the Dragon's Clutch. Not an easy enchantment to beat simply with one spell." Something in Sirius's voice made Harry look at him warily. The man was looking very intently at the locket shining in reflected light from his wand.

"You know the name of the enchantment?" Harry prodded; it wasn't a bit of dark magic you learned unless you went looking for it.

"I am a Black," Sirius explained, his voice somehow very wrong. "So, _Neville_, what are we here for?" Harry could not make out what the emphasis on his assumed name was meant to imply but it didn't feel right.

"The decanter of blood," Harry lied smoothly, moving in such a way that his shoulders and back hid from Sirius what he was reaching for in the armoire. With his wand he summoned the Slytherin's locket to his pocket and with his free hand he picked up the ornate bottle holding blood. "Well we can go now." Harry slid past Sirius and to the door. He heard a click and turned to see Sirius had reopened the armoire and was looking at the place the locket had been.

"I did not take you for a thief, Neville. I do not care for the old blood, but the locket you took is an old family heirloom. I Iwant/I it back." Sirius had not looked at him. Harry surreptitiously brought his wand out of his pocket, holding it casually.

"No, Sirius. It is the blood of your ancestor in the decanter that's a family heirloom, not the locket. I think you have them mixed up," Harry said in forced cheerfulness.

"Be that as it may, return to me my property."

Harry frowned; Sirius simply did not talk like that. "What is wrong with you, Sirius?"

"I do not like thieves." Sirius came around the bed, taking off the cowboy hat on his head and leaving it on the covers. As always his shaved head and face made him unrecognizable. But something disturbed Harry much more than his appearance; Sirius was rolling his wand holding it with the fingertips of both hands – the gesture was horrifyingly familiar.

"Sirius?"

"Pity that the first breath of free air I take is in this relic of a shrine to the purity of blood. No, Neville, Sirius is my creature and I have sent him elsewhere. You will give me my locket now." He came forward, his gait and voice having completely changed.

Harry walked backwards out of the door frame and into the hallway, leaving the constricts of Mrs. Black's bed room. Sirius walked steadily, rolling that wand in a gesture from another wizard. He waited at the top of the stairs for Sirius to come out. A flick of his wand and every candle in the second floor hallway lit up, burning the cobwebs that had formed over them.

The yellow light glittered in Sirius's dark eyes as he marked him coming out of the bedroom – they were no longer the gray color Harry was used to seeing. He had known what to look for and in the candles' wash he saw snake slits in obsidian eyes; his heart sank.

"Lord Voldemort." Harry made it a statement thought he wanted to ask if he was right.

"Yes and no, but very close. You impress me again, Neville." The way he said 'Neville' was beginning to grate on Harry. "I do not wish to kill you. It is you who I have to thank for bringing Sirius so close to my possession that it woke me up. Dear Sirius can now continue serving our accord. Please, hand over the locket, so we can speak of your joining me."

Harry's mind furiously tried to guess at what was happening. At least Sirius had stopped near the door and was facing him at a distance of at least ten feet; a decent formal dueling length of separation. "If you're not Voldemort, who are you?"

"How comfortably you take that name. Foolish of you. I was a shadow of the Dark Lord joined with Sirius Black; I am now equal parts of both. You may call me Mortfidèle." Sirius bowed elegantly showing the discolored skin on the top of his head.

Harry's blood ran cold and his mouth dropped open slightly.

"Y-you're Mortfidèle?" he whispered.

Sirius clapped his eyes open and smiled in pleasure coming out of the bow. His familiar smile with Voldemort's eyes, only black, made a cold shudder go through Harry.

"Strange how the name of my source does not frighten you as much as mine does. I am curious how a wizard as powerful and cunning as you is in the service of a squib. You were right to kill the Death Eaters, they were disloyal and weak. Weak just as my other self was, falling to a child. Give me the locket and I will make you my right hand, I will give you such power you will live in a state of awe of what you can command." Sirius reached out an upturned hand and took a couple of unhurried steps towards him.

Inside Harry had forced his screaming mind to quiet and numb so he could survive the danger. "How did Voldemort join you with Sirius?" he asked trying to buy himself time to decide what to do. He had to get the wand away from Mortfidèle before he could allow himself to think of what had happened.

"I can show you, share the secrets with you, all I ask is to return to me my locket." He stepped closer, the wand held loosely to his side and one hand raised to receive the locket from Harry.

"Voldemort doesn't merge with those he possesses, he keeps his name, his own identify, everything; while he rots away his host. You're not a simple invading spirit are you? Where is Sirius?" Harry took a step back creating distance that Mortfidele had shortened between them. He was on the top of the first step now, if he was going to retreat anymore he would have to take the steps down.

"An astute mind. All those secrets are yours. Now hand me the locket!" Mortfidèle clenched his open hand stalking to Harry.

"No, first, your word that you will make me your right hand," Harry demanded throwing out a hand to halt him.

Mortfidèle inclined his head in acceptance and Harry approached him bringing out the locket from his pocket. The look of dark greed on Sirius's face disgusted Harry. He placed the locket in Mortfidèle's open palm keeping his hand on it and turned in to him to send a wandless expelliarmus at Sirius's wand hand. Mortfidèle lost his wand and Harry ripped his hand back where he had placed the locket in Mortfidèle's hand.

A scream of utter rage came from Sirius's mouth but it was really Mortfidèle's anger. He leapt after Harry grabbing his hand, but where his skin met Harry's it began to burn and he pulled back with a screech. The black snake slit eyes cleared and Harry saw Sirius look through frightened.

"Neville, get the fuck away before he comes back. Run! Save Harry and Bianca, he will come for them," Sirius shouted, running back cradling his burned hand and away from Harry.

Harry gave chase. "Are you out of your mind? I am not leaving you. How is he possessing you?"

Sirius gave him a frustrated angry look. "Fuck off before you die, you damned idiot. I can't hold him back." Sirius kept running into the depths of the Black Manor, going to the end of the second floor where the staircase to the third went up. Their steps thundered in the old house as they ran.

"I can save you, just tell me how he's doing it?" Harry shouted. "Stop for Merlin's sake!"

Sirius did just that, stopping at the top landing and looked down at Harry with a face that belonged on a broken man. "He put a conscious horcrux inside me. He stayed away in Azkaban because of my nightmares. But not anymore, Neville. Please, go," he begged. "Ask them to forgive me." He turned tail again.

"Sirius, Sirius!" Harry shouted, his mind reeling with the knowledge. "Just think of your friends, think of who you love, he can't stand that. Come back!"

Harry ran down the third floor corridor, taking the sharp left into where he remembered the Black library was he saw Sirius looking for an escape. He tackled the man down to the floor and Sirius flailed against him in desperation but he was too weak physically to match the strength of Harry's polyjuiced body.

He pinned him under him and sat on his chest with Sirius's hands trapped by his own. "Look," he breathed shallowly from the fight, "I can help you. Just give me a minute to think - Oh Shit!" Harry shouted as soon as he saw that Sirius's eyes were a snake's and he was actually holding down Mortfidèle.

Mortfidèle let out a wordless challenge and Harry was blasted off of Sirius's body. He slammed into the ceiling and crashed to the floor where he felt something wet on his hands caught under his own body. He turned only to have time to glance down his hand to see his own blood before Mortfidèle was on top of him reaching for his pockets and overwhelming Harry with his frenzied strength.

Harry grabbed Mortfidèle's hand that had found its way into the right pocket and circled the wrist so he couldn't pull out the locket. Mortfidèle screeched in pain, high and thin, and hexed Harry with something that made him repel from his grip on him and go crashing into a wall. Harry slipped down with his legs splayed out and saw Mortfidèle rolling in agony holding his burned wrist with his already burned hand. Harry checked his pocket frantically and was lucky to find the locket still there.

_Accio Wand!_ He spelled and from under the fallen bookshelves his wand rocketed to him. Black snake slit eyes turned to him as he scrambled up to his feet but by the time he approached the body Sirius was back.

"That keeps him away, whatever the hell you did there, he can't take it." Sirius panted.

"Just keep thinking of people you love. He possessed me once, that is how I beat him out. Let me heal you." Harry reached for Sirius's hands.

"No!" Sirius pulled away from him rolling back. "The pain keeps him away."

Harry stopped helplessly until he realized his entire front was wet with blood. He took off his cloak to find his pale blue shirt crimson. A spell of dizziness hit him as he realized he had lost too much blood. A long crude gash was carved into his torso from chest to hip.

"Merlin, he did a number on me," Harry noted dazedly.

"I will do much more next we meet!" Mortfidèle's cold and high voice threatened and Harry snapped to him with his wand aiming where Sirius's body had been a moment ago. Mortfidèle had disapparated, taking Sirius with him.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Catharsis 3

_**Chapter 3**_

An emergency portkey brought Harry back to his hidden room in the Dursley household. He staggered to his potions tray and picked two stone containers filled with Blood Replenishing Potion, something about the nature of the potion demanded that it be stored that way. He gulped the two doses feeling the cold stone on his fevered skin.

He needed a healing spell for the gash on his torso, but he couldn't concentrate beyond a basic blood clotting charm. Healing was a discipline requiring focus and power, he had enough of the latter but the blood loss made it risky to cast anything on himself with his dizziness. His secret power was escaping his control; he had to banish the excess back to the Department of Mysteries. But it was also his only hope of healing himself without resorting to the complex spell work needed.

Hoping that like few times when he was in a bind sheer will would be enough, Harry muttered _episkey_ falling to his knees and letting go of his control of the power. He felt its oncoming and was overwhelmed by a feeling of smothering heat to which he succumbed consciousness. He dropped to his face on the floor of the room.

Clearly, trying to fight Mortfidèle without hurting Sirius had cost him.

* * *

Harry woke up and peeled his face off the wooden floor where blood had caked on him. He rolled over feeling the tug of the sticky and dry liquid on his clothes. Craning his neck he felt over his chest to find it whole. With sudden alacrity he jumped to his feet and realized he had reverted back to his eleven year old body. He changed out of the bloody clothes absently noting that he would need another cloak to blend in the magical world. He moved like a child possessed, his thoughts as feverish as his body had been earlier.

He checked himself in the bathroom after taking a shower. The damage to his chest and torso had been severe; Mortfidèle's wandless expelling hex had been unnecessarily vicious. Where the blood gushing wound had been, Harry had a scar covering him. It looked like the veins of a leaf spreading out from one curving stem from his shoulder to his hip. It was white and shone like scar tissue, but if one didn't know the source of the mark it could easily be mistaken as adornment. _All I need is a dragon tattoo and the picture would be complete, oh! And if my balls dropped that would help too. Merlin, it sucks to be eleven._

With that thought he dressed and with purpose went to the reading chair he always had pulled up to the window. He sat down for his think and poured the alcohol waiting by his hand. He had done this many times. There were too many things he had faced that would rip apart his mental fortitude and emotional stamina for disaster – Sirius being Voldemort's right hand was one of them. And to add insult to injury _he_ was the one who had saved the man at least partially complicit in his parent's death from Azkaban. If it weren't for Sirius's show of remorse Harry would have completely written himself off as a blundering tragedy waiting to happen.

"Alright Harry, you unleashed a half Voldemort on the world. Brilliant work. The other half is your godfather who can taunt and laugh simultaneously casting silent spells to hold off a witch like Bellatrix," Harry paused in his listing to take a comfortable shot of whiskey. "So you've fucked the world and your sister in one swoop. Outstanding." He shut his eyes against the glare of the late afternoon sun.

He had held off his fear for Sirius long enough and the terrible question of how much he had betrayed the light when he had been dueling Mortfidèle but now he had all the luxury of time to brood over the question. Did he deserve his forgiveness? Mortfidèle frightened even Malfoy; what kind of things did Sirius do as his partly possessed alter ego? Harry wet his mouth, dry from the thought that he had lost his godfather a second time. Somehow in this world the public had gotten it right, blaming Sirius as Voldemort's second, while Voldemort's own Death Eaters had no knowledge of his 'Hidden Hand's' true identity.

Sirius's words echoed in his mind:_ Run! Save Harry and Bianca, he will come for them. ...Ask them to forgive me._

Harry laughed madly, something torn out of the depths of his grief and desperation. He laughed to the ceiling, his face upturned in a grimace. It was as if the laughter was a dry and futile challenge to someone or something higher than him; and it was derisive.

He heckled God who he'd long ago given up on when his baby boy had started killing his own family and when he was forced to end his own child's life to save the world. Now he was being asked to kill his godfather, the one man he wanted to do right by this time and whose life he wanted to ease. Harry shook his head to the ceiling; a silent rejection of what fate seemed to be telling him to do.

"Where is that letter?" He fumed, wanting to move on and do something proactive than sit there and lament the twists of fate.

He wanted access to his vault and unless someone from Dumbledore showed up to escort him to Diagon Alley he was never receiving the key. The goblin keys could not be duplicated. He also needed Dumbledore to invite him into the castle so he could destroy the horcrux placed in Rowena's diadem.

Everything had to change. Before knowing of Bianca's existence he knew how everything was going to happen. He had planned on finishing off Voldemort his first year. Allowing the Dark Lord to find the Philosopher's Stone and regain a corporeal body that would be easier for him to kill.

With his actions he had both Voldemort and Mortfidèle looking for Bianca, with the added bonus of Mortfidèle knowing Harry Potter The Boy Squib was someone he needed to get rid of since the squib could command a servant like Neville. _Perfect,_ Harry thought sarcastically rubbing his temples.

He _had _to get to Hogwarts, he needed the key to his vault; those things were still a priority. The only wildcard in the mix was having to protect his newly found sister, a time traveler like him who was probably taking actions in advance of things happening already. He groaned realizing that they could be working counter to each other.

He was brooding when a thought crossed his mind that made him pause in the act of bringing the bottle to his lips. Carefully he returned it on the coaster and shut his eyes taking a deep breath to slow his thought process enough to make a sound judgment.

The first thing Voldemort had done after coming back was to try and steal the prophecy. With Mortfidèle on the loose it wasn't a stretch of imagination that he may want to know the prophecy that had brought down his 'source' as he had called Voldemort.

"Well, at least, it's something to do." Harry smiled. He looked out of his window noting that the sun was still in the sky. Not knowing how soon Mortfidèle would make his move he decided to make it before him.

* * *

Having charmed the clothes Petunia had bought him while under the imperius to an adult size Harry once again took the polyjuice to become Neville the Death Eater poseur. Lucius had been considerate enough to bring with him a rich green cloak that Harry had draped around himself.

They both stood near the entrance to the Ministry of Magic as a lazy summer wind kicked up their cloaks.

"Discretion is a must, Lucius. They believe you to be dead or kidnapped. If you are discovered, take my body and run. You have to protect my body at all costs, understand?"

"It will be done as you wish it, but how do you intend to get through all the Ministry's Aurors and Unspeakables?" Malfoy asked, clearly distressed that Harry didn't seem to be taking the problem seriously.

"Wait and see, Lucius. I think you will enjoy yourself. Shall we?" Harry gestured toward the telephone booth.

"Of course." Malfoy followed Harry's polyjuiced form into the booth and dialed the number.

When asked to declare themselves Harry gave their names as 'Pugnatious Weatherby and Sardonus Malcrecent.' He smiled at Lucius's bemused face quietly fingering the Resurrection Stone hanging around his neck.

The Ministry as always was magnificent, a row of fireplaces burning green flames on both sides of the corridor led to an expansive magical veil on which silver words winked in and out giving visitors information and showing cryptic messages only those who spoke Magical Bureaucraticese could understand. Sitting like a small boat in a sea of people was the wand check-in kiosk as an apologetic gate post to the Ministry proper.

Harry signaled to Lucius to wait. They turned toward each other as two wizards consulting where to go before going further.

"My lord?" Lucius looked askance towards the guard sitting at the kiosk.

"I thought I asked you not to call me that," Harry muttered distractedly as he took off the Resurrection Stone from the chain around his neck.

"I have not yet come upon an appropriate name." Lucius gave a short bow as if in apology. "How can I get past the guard without revealing my identity? The Ministry employs basic defenses against the Disillusionment charm, we both will be discovered."

"Faith, Lucius. Give me a moment." Harry had become fairly adept at chiding his subordinates and students for pestering him, but unlike with them he did not have to be blatant with Lucius.

"Forgive me." Lucius gave his short bow again and Harry dismissed it with a wave of his hand, his concentration solely on the stone. He had moved so that Lucius could not see or guess what he was doing. He turned it a couple of times his mind and words focused on who he wanted to summon.

Three women appeared standing tall above him. Even in their transparent forms they were devastatingly beautiful, creatures of delicate features, lush colored eyes, and expressions of polite invitation. Silky feathers made their sheer gowns that hugged their waists and bloomed over their legs, blowing in unfelt wind. Bare shoulders and arms defeated the limits of their spirit essence to look touched by the moon's soft paleness, demanding to be caressed. Their hair, all shades of the unbridled river, fell free and long, touching innocence upon their lustrous bodies.

For long moments both Harry and Lucius Malfoy gawped at them in awe.

"You summon us again, kind sorcerer, we did not recognize you in your disguise. We wish peace on you." One lady curtseyed.

Harry bowed himself. "Ladies Peisinoe, Aglaope, Thelxiepeia, I greet you in peace and in need."

"We have never refused you, kind sorcerer. Life is as merciless as the ocean to you, we will sooth you with our song until you come through this veil to us where we can care for you ourselves," another lady spoke and her voice echoed around them like a current lapping gently on the body.

"I go on a quest for prophecy, ladies fair. Many warrior mages stand in my way and many innocents as well. I do not wish to harm either. If you would lend your voices to my purpose they would come to you and be safe away from where I must go."

"You do know you are in a different place now, kind sorcerer? You have traversed a path one of your stature is not allowed to. My heart bleeds that you may have provoked the wrath of those who keep measure and scale of the worlds. We sisters will sing for you, but do not reproach us if the song is melancholy, we worry for you," the third lady spoke and Lucius thought there may be tears in her eyes.

She struck the chords on a lyre he hadn't seen and a look of pure emotion crossed the face of the muggle body Harry was using. Even a master observer of subtleties, Lucius could not determine what exactly his new lord was feeling.

"Thank you, fair ladies. I am eager to meet you beyond the veil one day and thank you for all you have done for me." Harry bowed and came out of it to give Lucius a piercing look. "Let him be free of your influence, he must guard my body while I leave it to go on my quest."

The ladies inclined their heads as one, their fine fingers teased the strings on their lyres, and three voices rose clear and mournful, spreading throughout the Ministry and reaching every sentient mind. The voices undulated in words long unheard and notes so magical they sent the ones listening to unknowable ecstasies of spirit.

Harry stood with Lucius as silent droves of witches and wizards began to gather, coming from the elevator, apparating to the main hall from their offices further underground. The ladies sang standing against each other calling them all.

"Who are they?" Lucius asked in an awe stricken voice.

"They are the Sirens of legend, Lucius. Much kinder beings than what our stories make them out to be."

Lucius turned to him wide eyed. "I knew your power was great, my lord, but this? That you can summon Sirens out of myth is unfathomable."

"You really have to start calling me something other than that, you know. Come, Lucius, I need a place to sit down where you can guard me." Harry led against the press of wizards and witches trying to get close to the Sirens.

They passed the wand check-in desk without event and found a bench by the large elevator bringing ever increasing number of people up.

"Well I took everyone away but the wards, curses, and other magic is still on the secret areas. We don't have much time so I will be performing something risky. If I don't wake up before the Sirens leave take me to your manor and I will eventually come to." Harry instructed Lucius who was keeping one eye to the mass of ministry employees and visitors being bewitched by the Sirens.

"You said you would be leaving your body, master," Lucius made it a question.

"'Master' isn't much better than 'my lord,' and yes I will be. No more questions, Lucius, just do what I ask." Harry closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wall, knowing Lucius would obey him to the letter.

As before Harry began his magic; quieting his mind and heart, so he could feel his secret power which simmered just under the surface of his active consciousness. The source of his strength was so close that it felt him right away. Like water filling an empty vessel it rushed to him but this time he did not want that. With supreme strength of will he tried to turn it back, using nonsensical words to give a language to his intent which the power could understand. The tide turned taking him with it, just as he wanted. He felt his consciousness and maybe his soul pulled away from his body as he became a fish in the ocean of the mysterious power.

When he opened his eyes he was one with the golden light pulsing in the underground room. He had tried this only once before and he had almost lost himself then. The power became his body, forming the physical limits of his consciousness and housing his soul – the feel of smothering heat that in his own body was unbearable was refreshing and liberating when it became all he was.

The room was painfully bright from the light of the power. Harry clearly saw the door and thought to move. His plasmatic body responded comfortably making him feel feather light. His luminance washed everything he passed in pale golden light showing him the insides of Department of Mysteries clearly. A spiral staircase cut into stone curved up from the door of 'that terrible power' and Harry climbed swiftly unimpeded by the limits of tiring muscles and out of breath lungs.

As he had planned all Unspeakables had left the department to answer the Sirens' call, he could hear their song as strong and as beautiful as it was when he was standing right next to them. Being that the room he had come from was the most secure and heavily warded of the whole of the Ministry it was smart to invade it from within, he had simply bypassed any of the Unspeakables' imaginative and sometimes cruel ways of keeping intruders out.

Soon he was opening the door to let him enter the room of revolving doors. A sight gave him pause and he wondered if some spell had recognized his intrusion and was attempting to trick him into being captured: a very young child was hanging upside down in the middle of the air with red distortions in the air seemingly to hold them there. Their robes had fallen over themselves and Harry could see panties with fire trucks in the blue flames of the torches in the Revolving Room.

"What strange bait," he mused, focusing on the red crinkled distortions in the air; definitely traps of some kind. As he got closer he realized the child was humming to the Sirens' song; apparently too high off of it to realize their situation. _It's probably a girl, no self respecting boy would wear panties, even if it does have fire trucks on it. _

He kneeled by the head of the girl and lifted the robes up so he could see her face; he noticed that his hands were made of swirling golden light. Hazel eyes stared back at him stupidly.

"Bianca?" He was stunned to find the upturned child to be the girl claiming him as her brother. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She didn't respond but continued humming to the Sirens' song. Harry made a frustrated noise and touched his plasmatic hands to the sides of her face sending a shock of his power through her. She came to, her eyes widening in shock at seeing him and remembering her situation. Frantically she pushed her robed so they covered her panties but her legs were still bare and her buckle-shoed feet kicked at the red spells that had caught her.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked again, much calmly.

"Dad?" she asked with such hesitant hope that it took Harry aback.

He stood up and made the wand motions in the air to conjure a mirror. He practically felt the power going out from him and pulling matter somewhere to do as he asked. In the tall mirror he saw himself as a being made of light looking like himself in the future; over forty with hair he knew had grayed prematurely at the tips and a face gaunt with giving too much. He sighed understanding Bianca's mistake.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, not correcting her. The mirror vanished as he turned his attention to the spells keeping Bianca trapped. Reaching for them he pulled them off her as if they were simply spider webs he was cleaning. With a thump she fell to the floor, rubbing her side.

"I _had_ to get the prophecy," she explained.

"And how were you planning to get through the wards and curses?" Harry crossed his arms, looking down on her.

"They weren't there last time," she argued.

"You came back in time from your fifth year?"

She nodded, still in awe of him.

"And you were thrown back when you were fighting in the Department of Mysteries."

She nodded again, looking quite like the child eager to please.

"And you thought that just because the Death Eaters in the future had dismantled and dissipated the protection magic to lure you into the prophecy chamber there would not be any magic against intruders in the past either."

She nodded dutifully before realizing Harry's sarcasm and shuffled her feet sheepishly. Harry let out a suffering sigh. He had been afraid they would be working counter to each other, now he had to worry she would simply get herself killed with what she knew. _Damned teenagers! Fifteen in an eleven year-old's body and she thinks she can take on the Ministry. _

"Did you think before rushing in?" he quite felt like he was talking to one of his children or Weasley nephews.

"I'm sorry, Dad," her words came out blubbering and watery. He realized that for her this was the first time she was talking to her father and he was giving her a lecture.

"Oh, sweetheart." He knelt wrapping her in the heat of his secret strength made physical in the moment. "Shh." He comforted her.

The girl did not let go of him feeling content to cry her heart out. In his form he did not feel her body as he would have otherwise; she felt more like a current of energy small and fragile. He decided to tell her he wasn't her father after she had her moment of catharsis. Vague recollection of his own fifth year reminded him that he had a lot of pent up stress from worry and anger.

When she seemed to wind down he stepped away from her. "I am not your dad; I know I look a lot like him. Just think of me as your guardian angel, alright?" he said quickly.

"You're not my father?" Her eyes showed her suspicion. "But you look exactly like him."

"I know, but I am not. Let's go we don't have much time." Harry moved toward the right door, knowing the lay out of the department well from his days as an Auror friendly with the Unspeakables.

"Wait!" she shouted and he realized he had walked too fast for her if her running after him was any measure. "How are you my guardian angel?" she panted.

"No time for questions, you already wasted it getting caught. We have to get the prophecy out and be gone before the song stops." He had moved too fast again and she was far behind him running to catch up.

"Who is singing? It's so beautiful," she asked getting slightly mesmerized again. Harry rested his hand against her cheek shocking her once again with his power. "Ow!"

"Focus, girl. Here," he gave little warning before levitating her making her squeal in surprise and then moved with that inexplicable speed his projected body allowed him. Unfortunately this time his passing had the soundtrack of a girl shrieking in his ear.

_Girls!_ Harry thought to himself coming to a sudden stop in front of the shelves upon shelves of prophecies. And there it sat with a nebulous light in its heart: S.T to A.P.W.B.D reference B.H.P and the Dark Lord. Harry put his hand on the prophecy and the magic on the ball fought his presence before it was easily overwhelmed by the superior magic. It floated into his arm and came to rest in the middle of his chest.

"That's my prophecy," Bianca Potter demanded from where she was floating in the air.

"Do you know what it says?" Harry asked. She shook her head no. He hoped she didn't see what crossed his mind. Now _he_ was in Dumbledore's position. Could he tell the child knowing she'd go through everything he had? Fifteen was hardly old enough.

In golden light coming from his body and the faint periwinkle luminescence of the orbs highlighted the healthy blush in her child face. She looked innocent and fresh, even if her eyes were intent and demanding showing a little more wisdom than her age.

He couldn't do it.

"You shouldn't be found here." He flew back to the revolving doors ignoring her shout of 'give me the prophecy.' In moments they were at the elevators on the ninth floor. He set her down and she drew her wand marking him without a waver.

He smiled, so she was brave and not completely trusting. He could write off her earlier loss of composure on apparently seeing her dead father.

"I wouldn't use that. You don't want to be picked up for underage magic. Did you consider that by the way when you came here?"

"It was worth the risk. Give it to me." She looked determined and Harry realized he was beginning to like her attitude.

"Bianca…now is not the time. Go upstairs. A wizard named Neville will be waiting for you, he will escort you home."

"No! I came here for the orb!"

"Can you protect your mind from invasion? You know how badly your enemy wants this, how easy would it be for him to pluck it out of your mind?" He could see her face crumpling with each question, and he felt elated that he had guessed right: she was as bad as he had been at occluding her mind. "I will keep this safe for you until you are ready." She tried to interrupt him but he spoke over her. "As a reward for being patient, Neville will cast a charm on you that will let you do magic outside of school without the Ministry knowing." He could see her interest peaked.

"How will you know when I am ready?"

"I will ask your brother."

"My brother?" An adorable look of confusion turned to surprise when Harry banished her to the elevator at the top of the Ministry where it was waiting.

* * *

He returned to the chamber of power where the fullness of the mysterious magic threatened to drown him in itself. Using the same method as before he put his will to words of intent that expelled his consciousness from the chamber back to his body ten stories and change above.

A coughing fit hit him as he returned to his polyjuiced body and he almost dropped the orb he had banished into his hands. Without looking he shoved it into his pocket as a hand thumped him on the back.

"Are you well?" Lucius asked in concern.

"Yes, yes. Any trouble?"

"No, the sisters' song is too beautiful to ignore. To think that what I feel is without them attempting to influence me is unbelievable."

"You sound like you're in love, Lucius." Harry grinned getting up to look for Bianca coming out of the elevator.

"It is difficult not to be."

"Lucius, we must move fast. Tonight I will bring Avery Sr. to my side and your wife. Tomorrow Avery Jr. must do what he needs to for us. And you need to return to your public life a victim of Death Eaters. But most importantly I need you to find out if anyone is gathering the dark to themselves."

"Yes, my…" Lucius paused uncomfortably. "The Sirens' song has given me a name for you. If it pleases you we shall call you Achelous, the Sirens' sire."

"Not bad, when I said nothing dramatic I thought names of gods would be off the list. But I don't mind being named something that reminds you of the ladies fair."

He stood up indicating to Lucius it was time to go. "Fine, Lucius. Owls addressed to Achelous will reach me if you have need of me. Now I have to go, I will see you and your wife tonight."

"Yes, Achelous."

Harry had spotted Bianca coming out of the elevator and walk to the Sirens as enchanted as anyone else. The magic he had cast on her to help her resist their call had fallen. He watched her pony tail swing as she jogged through the crowd easily maneuvering around people's legs because of her size.

Surreptitiously Harry sent a little charm at her back that made her hood rise and cover her head. He followed her to the front of the ring that had formed around the Sirens. The sisters were smiling at Bianca their song turning a little happier.

"Farewell, ladies. I shall call you soon." He bowed to them putting a hand on Bianca's shoulder.

"Farewell, kind sorcerer," one sister broke her song to speak with him. "Keep the young fated one close. She will save you from the wrath of those who would punish you for your travel. We will wait till you have left."

"I will, Lady Peisinoe." He waved a fond goodbye to the other two sisters and dragged Bianca back with him to the exit.

As they left the Ministry and came to the sunset outside he saw Bianca becoming less bewitched. She noticed him and shrugged off his hand with alarm, stepping away from him.

"Excuse me!" she said angrily.

"I am Neville."

"Oh!" she looked surprised. _Maybe she didn't believe me downstairs._ "I'm Bianca Po-"

"Don't say your name," Harry warned reapplying the voice modification charm on himself when his voice cracked. He pointed to the muggles walking by so she'd understand they weren't alone. "I am here to take you home, and take off the Ministry's tracking spells on you."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll go home myself." She gave him a suspicious look and backed away.

"Your guardian angel promised you my help," Harry said wondering if the girl had finally come to her senses and started being less trusting. Albeit this time he didn't look like her father.

"How do I know you were who he was talking about?"

Harry could see her hand clenching her wand in her pocket. Her caution was working against him but anything less would have made him mad at her carelessness.

"I suppose you don't." Harry wondered how he could prove his trust worthiness to her. "Well, for one, how would I know to take off the Trace on you and escort you home if your guardian didn't tell me?"

"You could've been following me and heard him say that."

"Good girl," Harry said appreciatively. Bianca didn't seem happy to be patronized. "Alright so that won't work. We don't have time for vows or oaths. It will be dark soon and I'd rather you be home before then. Do you have any ideas?"

"Yup. You can walk that way, and I will go this way." She smiled sweetly at him.

Harry laughed. "I thought you trusted your guardian."

"I don't like people who keep things from me." Her expression reminded Harry of his own anger at Dumbledore in the time she had just gone through.

"He gave you good reasons for not giving you the prophecy."

"He dropped some stupid hint about my brother and didn't give me a reason for looking like my father. I _don't_ trust him, and I _don't_ trust you." She punctuated it with drawing her wand and tapping to her side.

"Are you going to duel me?" Harry asked with an amused smile.

"No, I'm going to curse you when you're not looking."

"Won't telling me your strategy foil your clever plan?"

"Of course not," she gave him big round innocent eyes. "You don't believe a cute little girl like me could curse you. I'm just talk." She smiled that sweet smile again.

Harry laughed, loving her attitude.

Something splashed on his face and he wiped it away in disgust; it smelled foul. Boils erupted on his skin and he gave the girl's fast retreating back an annoyed look. _Well she did warn me_, he thought absently countering the nuisance potion.

Disillusioning himself and making his feet noiseless he tore after her. His polyjuiced body's long legs and strong physique caught up to her smacking heels on the foot path. She rounded the Ministry's façade's corner and threw her wand hand out. The purple triple-decker appeared right away and she climbed it before it had completely screeched to a halt. _So that's how she's been getting around._

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A.N. Some familiar themes, and some really fun stuff. For me anyway.

* * *

Apparating to the park at the end of Wisteria Walk Harry decided to take a stroll back to No. 4 Privet Drive; the day had given him much to think about. A smile touched his face as he remembered Bianca's pretend innocent eyes – she has spirit. The smile turned wry as he admitted to himself that she had completely played him at the end. _Well, hard to take her seriously after seeing her in just knickers. I'll have to bring that up someday.  
_

The prophecy orb in his pocket bumped against his leg as he walked reminding him of its presence. Most likely the prophecy was the same as his time, but it could be different like other things had ended up being. It would be wise to break the orb and listen to the words but he had promised Bianca he would give her the prophecy when she learned Occlumency. Deciding he'd rather keep his word to her and not betray her trust he put it out of his mind, resolving to hide it for the time being. There were more pressing worries any way.

For one there were the loose ends of Death Eaters still living because he could not find them or thought they might be useful to keep around. With Mortfidèle released from whatever place he had been in Sirius's mind during his incarceration in Azkaban it was too great a risk that the remaining Death Eaters would unite behind the Hidden Hand. It seemed Misters Crabbe and Goyle would be getting a visit from Neville. _I will put Lucius on to finding the others for me._

Soon the question he had been avoiding came to plague him: _How do I save Sirius…or do I stop him before he gets to Bianca?_ Very carefully he switched the world 'stop' for 'kill' knowing he wasn't ready to make that choice. Either way he could not allow Mortfidèle to walk free, he had to hunt him and trap him. He knew of only one way to get rid of a horcrux in a living body without killing the host. But there was no guarantee that Sirius would get the same choices as he had when Voldemort had cast _Avada Kedavra_ on him a second time.

_But is he even really innocent? I can't interrogate him without him confessing to Mortfidèle crimes._

Ducking behind one of the neighbor's houses who had gone south for the summer Harry waited for the polyjuice to wear off. He was just in time to get out of sight before his body began to shrink to its normal size. A bundle waited for him by the back door step from which he took clothes normal enough for an eleven year-old to be wearing. The green cloak Lucius had loaned him went into a bag along with the adult sized clothes.

When he appeared at the head of Privet Drive he was Harry Potter, the local delinquent, once again. It was evening and later in the night he planned to visit the Malfoys. Narcissa needed to be enthralled so she could spy for him in places Lucius couldn't, and besides, of the Death Eaters she was the least harmful. He began to reconsider Avery Sr.'s usefulness in light of Mortfidèle's return; he had planned on using him for influence in the dark corners of the Ministry, but perhaps he could send him out to join Mortfidèle.

So it was engrossed in these thoughts when he came to the door of the Dursleys and noticed with a surprise the shouts coming from inside. The door was slightly ajar and Petunia could be heard shrieking in high indignation, there was another woman's voice too. Alert and wary he entered the house with his hand firmly on the holly wand; the noise was coming from the kitchen.

"Some nerve! For eleven years!"

"Don't you dare!"

"It's my house, I will dare as I please, you abomination!"

"Oh shove it Petunia, what have you done with him?"

"Shove it? _Shove it?_ That's it!" Petunia shrieked so it was hard to tell she was speaking a language. Harry winced covering his ears.

"No, you don't. You don't get to be high and mighty," came clearly the voice of the other woman, no less angry but a lot less hysterical. "I am asking again, why by everything cursed did you look in the bloody cupboard for him? Is that where you keep him?" she demanded.

_Uh oh! A concerned witch, best to slip out before she notices-  
_  
"You! Where were you? If Vernon was here he'd box your ears for sauntering in here like you own the place at whatever hour pleases you!" Petunia had caught sight of him from the serving window into the Dining room from the kitchen. Sadly the view was clear to the main door where he was thinking of making his escape to lie in wait for the witch outside the house.

Thump of boots announced the mystery witch as she pushed Petunia away from the serving window to look at who she was talking to. Harry saw a blond woman with a page boy hair cut, an expression of fury on her face glare at him. Then suddenly the color from her face fell and the red blotches of anger disappeared as she was stunned.

"My God! You look just like him," she gasped, and then ran around to get to him.

She rushed toward him and Harry jogged back over his feet out the door. She stopped in confusion and then lunged forward; again Harry leapt back keeping her in sight. She stopped and started for him yet again, but this time Harry had had enough, he raised a hand to stop her.

"What _exactly_ are you trying to do?" he asked taking measure of the witch in front of him.

Her hair was on the golden side of blond which matched her lightly tanned skin. Her very clear brown eyes on a boyish face which was just this side of feminine to be fetchingly cute looked at him nearly stricken. She was also dressed like a femme fatale from some desert exploration movie. Burgundy leather boots went up to a khaki skirt topped off by a low neck safari shirt with a blue scarf tied around and accentuating her neck.

"I'm just trying to say hello," she said in a way that was meant to calm him but didn't.

"By running at me?"

"I just wanted to hug you. I haven't seen you in so long... almost ten years. You're so grown up and you look just like James." Her face nearly crumpled in a look of teary happiness.

"Keep your voices down, the neighbors will hear you!" Petunia tried to shout at them in a whisper but was completely ignored.

"Alright, I understand you are happy I look like James, but I stop giving free hugs and gropes to strangers at 3:00pm everyday. Child labor protection laws, you see. So I will have to ask your name, just so that it is legal."

"Don't you remember me?" she asked a smile beginning to curve on her as she regained her composure.

"Did I see you nearly a decade ago?"

She rolled her eyes obviously catching on to his sarcasm and opened her mouth to say something, but Petunia beat her to it.

"You have no right! You dumped him on me. Go back to your holes and demon rituals and tie dye parties," she hissed stalking to the witch. The witch in question swung back in exaggerated motion, giving Harry enough time to see the look of horror on Petunia's face, and drove a hook in her chin. Petunia slumped to the ground and the witch shook her gloved hand.

"Oh that was nice. I'll hug you for that, no problem."

The witch took his witty comment for a real invitation and she kneeled in front of him to take him in a crushing embrace. Harry was surprised to find the hug comfortable and put his arms around her smelling in her fruity perfume. Physical contact, such a basic need, and Harry had missed the simple affirmation of being hugged by someone. He had wanted a friend, and for that moment she was enough. Where he would've been awkward in his childhood he had life's experience of being a husband, a father, a teacher, and an uncle of giving and taking comfort from another human being.

Yet, he had incanted _Oriri Atrox _and his secret power simmered heatedly just at the edge of his will where it could be molded to any intention. If the witch tried to curse him she would be pulverized by a mere thought being too close for the wandless spell to lose its power.

In the meantime it was pleasant to feel a soft curvaceous body holding him. With a mental start he pulled back; being pressed to him as she was she wouldn't miss _that_ reaction against her stomach.

She sniffed as she let him go and Harry looked around to see the neighbors looking from their doorways in shameless voyeurism. Harry snorted disgustedly and went to pull Petunia in doors. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her; the endless physical work paid off enough so that he had wirier strength than most children his age. He was able to drag her across the lawn a few feet before the witch took her from him and lifted her easily in her arms to the house.

"So, who are you?" he asked feeling fairly confident the witch in her late-twenties wasn't trouble.

"I am Jamie, your aunt and your godmother." She looked over her shoulder as she put Petunia on a sofa. However she did miss the subtle change in expression on his face. _This could be the aunt Bianca was talking about, but no way to confirm it. _He filed away the revelation that she was his godmother to think about later.

"I don't have any aunts besides Aunt Petunia," he ventured giving the witch room to explain.

"I'm your aunt from your father's side, James' sister." She leaned her shoulder against the wall looking out of place and time in her safari costume. _Did I just check out my aunt? Wrong, wrong, wrong. _

"And you're the one who left me here?" There was no accusation in his tone.

A look of discomfiture crossed her face before she sighed, taking a chair and leaning forward earnestly. "Yes, but I wanted you with me, and I am here now to see how you're doing."

Harry couldn't help raising an eyebrow in question. The witch had just breezed through the implied question of why she'd left him behind. He saw her notice that he hadn't been fooled but she also didn't offer more explanation. _She thinks I'm a kind and not older than her by thirteen or fourteen years_.

It irked him at first, and as he thought about it he became angrier. How could she sit there without any explanation or remorse?

He felt disgusted that while he was willing to do so much for his family but every adult he had know of his own family had done nothing but let him down. _Did blood and kindness not mean anything to either the Potters or Dursleys?_ _My parents must be the exceptions. No wonder everyone praised them, they were saints by comparison._

But he couldn't say any of those things.

"So you've seen me, I am fine. Anything else?"

That seemed to break her stride and she began with forced cheer, "Well, how are you doing in school? What do you like to do? Do you have hobbies? Umm, sports or books, that sort of thing. I really want to know you Harry."

He had grown angry from just being disappointed, but at her cheeriness his fury exploded inside him. He wanted to walk away and not say anything, because that was the adult and smart thing to do. Anything else would come out either petty or give away too much of the fact that he wasn't a child.

But as soon as he turned his back on her he realized he couldn't simply walk up to his room; she was a witch and if she followed him she would notice where he was going.

_Oh this is going to be unnecessarily dramatic, _he thought to himself as he entered the cupboard under the stairs. Lighting the bulb so he could see where the underside of the stairs were he flopped down. The witch predictably pursued him. She crouched so she could look inside the cupboard.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, apparently determined not to put in words the disgust she had of his living arrangements otherwise clear on her face.

That got her in the door, "Make yourself at home."

She folded herself and sat on the very edge of the bed, Harry obliged by pulling his feet up so she had more room.

"Why did you walk away?" she asked combing her fingers through her golden hair. Harry noticed her nails were cut sensibly short though polished. _She works with her hands then._

"I don't think you really want an answer."

"Why not? I do want to know what you like to do." She appealed with her clear brown eyes, too expressive to lie well.

"You left me here, my own godmother; doesn't make sense you care who I am or what happens to me. So why are you here?"

"We thought you would be happier here." There was guilt in her face as she rested a hand on his knee to which Harry didn't react. _Why on earth would they think that? At least Bianca's explanation made some sense._

"So you didn't know Aunt Petunia hated my mum and dad?"

"We thought she would be kind to her own nephew."

Harry scoffed at the answer and smiled humorlessly. "She wasn't kind to her own sister, no reason for her to be kind to me. Funny that you thought so anyway, can't expect others to be decent when you're the one leaving a baby at someone's doorstep."

"You don't understand. Those were very hard times, there was danger-" she noticed his raised hand. "Yes?"

He motioned in an encompassing gesture of the cupboard they were inside and the cot they were sitting on. "I'm eleven. I was maybe two when you left me here. You really think I should be the one trying to understand your problems. Who's the adult here?" Harry snapped.

"You seem so mature, I just thought…" she trailed off angrily.

"Doubt you _thought_ anything because you might have stopped to think the whole 'we know Petunia is a raving bitch but maybe magically she will love the spawn of her Satan worshipping sister' was a screwy idea."

She whirled on him to berate him but he spoke over her, "Hey, her words not mine. I am sure my mum was awesome. Petunia wouldn't hate her so much if she wasn't. I've looked into Satan worshiping to follow in her footsteps."

"She was _not_ a Satanist." Jamie shook with anger.

Suddenly Harry was tired of being upset with her. To his eyes she was a young girl, probably pushed into responsibilities too early to understand what she was doing. But then again he had very little patience for that excuse given how much he had to face at an innocent age. Even so as a man over forty years of age, having led and fought two terribly personal wars he simply couldn't bring himself anymore to punish her at that time. She was a disappointment at worst, and as a godparent she had a very hard act to follow. _How do you compete with a man who escaped the worst prison on earth and then lived off rats like a dog to be close to his godson? You can't._

His heart ached for his own family, for the laughter of his children, the closeness he had with Ginny, her sense of constant adventure and loyalty. It was too much that he had not only failed to travel back in time to save them, but that he had to contend with more disappointments in his own blood. Bianca to whose safety he had already committed himself was going to be an exception, but as much as he had wanted a connection to his father, Jamie wasn't going to be it. She hadn't done even what Petunia had: taken him in kicking and screaming.

If she could take care of Bianca then what was the big deal of having another child? They couldn't seriously have thought living with Petunia would be good for him. Maybe there was something else. _She did say 'we' thought I would be happier. Who is this 'we?'_

"You said 'we thought you would be happy here.' Whose idea was it beside yours?"

Her face that had settled into an almost sullen expression showed her surprise at his question and her eyes revealed that she was thinking hard how to answer.

"I just meant me, it was my idea. Just a slip of the tongue." She laughed embarrassedly – it was a lie.

Harry closed off any thoughts he had of giving her a break. He stood in the small closet and looked straight at the pretty woman sitting on his cot. But the naked hesitation and appeal in her eyes for him to accept her softened him and he felt pity.

Girls always could twist him if they wanted, it had helped he had Hermione in his early years to scare off the players. After he was with Ginny he had two women to guard him from any damsels in distress who'd take unfair advantage of his heroic streak.

If she only looked a little like James it would be easier for him to accept her. If he tried really hard he could maybe see the resemblance in the cheek bones and the nose, but every feature being smaller on her didn't help.

He took a chance on her eyes that couldn't lie. He reached for her face with his small hands, not really able to cup it but held her in his palms so she would look in his eyes that showed his weariness and disappointment then he kissed her brow.

"When you're ready to tell me the truth about everything, come back, I'll be waiting for you."

She had tried to speak to him, appeal to him after that, but he was done and held the door open for her, inviting her to leave. At the doorstep she promised she'd be back and Harry could hear the unsaid message that the next time she would come back with the truth. She had understood him. He watched her walk down the street her boots thumping as she looked like someone headed to a costume party. He shut the door allowing her the privacy she needed to disapparate and not a moment later he heard the crack of magic announcing she'd left.

_I really need to kill something._

π

Feeding Petunia the Unctuous Unction while she was still knocked out Harry prepared for the long night ahead of him. He had prepared a basic dinner in minutes, knowing Petunia wouldn't have enough time for him to lace the food with the potion. Jamie Potter's visit had forced him to drug his relatives again lest they found a physical attack on Petunia to be the last straw on the camel's back.

_Jamie and James Potter, not too creative were they? Could've been worse they could have called Bianca by her middle name, then we'd be Harry and Harley Potter. _

He slammed his polyjuice potion turning into Neville the middle aged muggle runner. Changing his clothes in his secreted room he packed all the things he needed before going into battle. A need to release tension and having a couple of Death Eaters lying around who needed killing was a marriage of wants waiting to happen.

He disapparated to Lucius's Manor; unconcerned by rudely appearing right in the foyer instead of walking up the driveway. He had a moment to make note of the arching ceiling and the polished wood walls illuminated in an understated way by a few candles.

Lucius morphed out of the end of the hallway coming out of some dark corner, he had his wand drawn and pointed at him. Harry snapped his head back so that the hood of the green cloak Lucius had loaned him fell from his head. Lucius returned the wand to his sleeve and gave a short bow.

"Achelous, is everything well? You have arrived rather abruptly." Lucius came to take his cloak but Harry waved him off.

"Someday you'll have to teach me how you choose your words so carefully, Lucius. I am sorry for breaking in but I am in a hurry. Mortfidèle has returned and I think he will be gathering the Death Eaters to him. I want to cut off anyone who can help."

Lucius took the list from him and his face paled even more than its natural complexion. "There are not many left alive on here," he carefully hid what he was thinking.

"Does that bother you, Lucius?" Harry demanded with a touch of anger.

"I am worried that my name is on there as well along with my wife's, Acelous."

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Lucius, you _are_ alive and in my service aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you have nothing to be concerned about. You are on that list because you were once a Death Eater."

"I still carry the mark, Achelous." His head was bowed and he spoke respectfully.

"Do you _want_ me to kill you for it?" Harry impatiently snapped.

"No, no. I just wish you to know that my loyalty is not to the master I followed in my younger years."

"But you still believe in muggle hunting and the dark arts' superiority?" Harry tested.

"I believe only in your will, all else is immaterial." Lucius went down on one knee.

A satisfied smile curled Harry's lips, _spoken like a true thrall_. "What if I ask you to repent your ways and join Dumbledore?"

"If it is your will then there is wisdom in it, and I shall do as you command. But I would beg your kindness to teach me the ways you would see me follow."

"Stand, Lucius. For now all I need from you is to follow me." Harry was pleased there was something that was going his way.

"Yes, Achelous." Lucius stood at deferential attention. "Is Mortfidèle truly back?"

"He is, and I have to stop him from gaining followers. Do you know where the other Death Eaters are hiding apart from the Averies we captured?"

"I do not know where the werewolf is," Lucius said with the slightest derision coloring his voice, "Nor Thorfinn. Wormtail is dead, killed by Sirius Black, if the Ministry is to be believed."

"He is alive somewhere," Harry corrected, motioning Lucius to continue when he gave him a surprised glance.

"I know of only Crabbe and Goyle, they are not too creative in picking their hideouts and I know all their secrets." Lucius folded the list in a highly dismissive manner suggesting just what he thought of his two subordinates. "Mortfidèle would hamper himself more than gain able followers if he sought those two and he knows this."

"A desperate man does desperate things, Lucius. He has encountered me once and has been defeated. A spy I have close to him has told me that Mortfidèle will move against my true self and my family quickly. I don't want him to have any support, no matter how incompetent."

"Ah! He does not know that you and Harry Potter are the same. Otherwise he would be wary of another meeting. I trust he was wounded badly if he is still alive?" Lucius' interest was thinly veiled. Harry felt like he had an extraordinarily cultured cheerleader.

"It is enough to say that he doubts his own invincibility after meeting me." Harry smiled enjoying the look of triumph on Lucius' face. "He harmed you in the past did he not?"

His thrall's face twisted in hate and remembered anger. "He punished my mistakes by torturing Narcissa. He was the one who forced her in the service of the Dark Lord."

"You care for Narcissa?" Harry just about hid his surprise.

"Very much, Achelous. It was only my care for her and duty to her that helped me remember I was something outside of being the Dark Lord's servant. I have lived most my adult life in obedience to him. Until your sister defeated him I had not known anything other than servitude, and I thank her for that even if her victory meant the death of my cause."

Harry found himself strangely moved by Lucius' words. He knew he should've expected the parts of the Death Eater that responded most to his enthralling power to rise but it was still a drastic change. He held Lucius' shoulder.

"What is your cause now, Lucius?"

"Your will."

"Then I will give you a promise, Lucius. Your wife will have a much kinder master in me, and I will not let Mortfidèle's shadow fall on her again."

"Thank you, Achelous," for once the Death Eater's cool demeanor broke to show a man truly relieved and grateful.

"Good, can we go kill Crabbe and Goyle now?"

"Of course, Achelous."

Harry was amused to find that Lucius' murderous smile pleased him instead of making him want to curse him to death. _I've made him into a more sensitive killer, but he is still a killer. _

"If it isn't an inconvenience to our errand tonight, can we be back in an hour? Narcissa has been preparing for tonight's dinner frantically. I would like her to be able to impress you in the manner she wants without delays," Lucius requested.

Harry laughed. "You're as henpecked as Arthur Weasley is, aren't you?"

Lucius made a mock horrified face as he held the main door open for Harry. "No, Achelous. There are few things that I have been spared the pain of; that is one of them. _My_ wife knows her place."

With the odd thought of Lucius and Molly as a possible couple Harry disapparated with his thrall.

Π

"You said they weren't creative, this is pretty damned creative." Harry cursed shoulder deep in a tropical forest in some part of Africa unknown to him.

Lucius had guided him to an underworld entrance to Knockturn Alley, where he had 'procured means for our travel.' The means turned out to be a string of portkeys all keyed to the notes of the solfège. Lucius sang 'do' and they were blown to the coast, then he sang 're' and they spun to the continent, so on and so forth till he got to 'la' and Harry was ready to kill the man.

'ti' brought them to the tropical forest where Lucius was leading blasting plants out of his way. Harry thought to mention that the forests were probably endangered but he was too frustrated, hot, and wet to care. Another drying charm, a cooling charm applied and he was ready to continue. But somehow the old forest had a power of its own that wore down the charms leading to constant recasting.

"Are you certain there aren't any wards?" he asked again, knowing it was a bad idea to be casting magic when attempting to break into someone's hideaway.

"Yes, Achelous. Crabbe and Goyle rely on their surprising ability to meld with this environment."

"Alright, how? As far as I know neither of them are gifted wizards."

Lucius blasted a particularly stubborn tree out of his way and sent a cutting hex ten feet deep to take care of the undergrowth. Harry peered behind him seeing a trail of destruction.

"The Dark Lord seeing the lack of talent in some of his Death Eaters attempted to make them something he could have use for. Crabbe and Goyle, two of the most likely to lose their wands in a duel were trained as animagi – it was a long and tedious process. If it weren't for the positive reinforcement of Cruciatus curse I would still be transfiguring them back to their human forms." Lucius stomped on the tall grass and brushed back the fauna as he climbed up the hill side.

"Crabbe and Goyle are animagi? That's surprising, what are they?" For the first time since they had landed in the forest Harry thought of something other than the discomfort.

"Yes, both of them chose to be powerful beasts as the Dark Lord ordered them. Their forms perhaps unsurprisingly were revealed to be gorillas, quite massive as well," Lucius commented in a by-the-by manner not seeing Harry's disbelief.

"They're gorillas?"

"Yes. Quite effective too once they lose their wands. Most wizards were overwhelmed by a six foot tall four-hundred pound gorilla rampaging."

"I can imagine," Harry said slowly unable to accept the sheer ridiculousness of it all. "And so they've turned into gorillas and gone into hiding somewhere. I assume you know where?"

"There is a cave up ahead, they have some supplies there, but mostly they can live off the land in their animagus forms. It is a simple plan but seems to have worked for them in the past."

Suddenly Harry heard a rumble and crashing ahead of them, Lucius went still as him, having heard the noise too. It was coming toward them from up hill – fast.

"Lucius get back and get a shield ready."

"Yes, m'lord," Lucius ran back to him on the trail he had cut through, looking silly in his expensive robes.

Soon they heard grunts accompanied with the rumble of many creatures rushing down the hill. A dark haired face appeared to their right before all around them gorillas of different sizes started showing up, running past them. At their back an extraordinarily large and completely silver gorilla came crashing down, he roared at them once and then followed the fifteen strong group down slope.

"Oh, dear," Lucius said in the silence left behind the gorillas. "Goyle has gone native."

Harry didn't like the sick look on Lucius' face. "What do you mean 'gone native?'"

Lucius gave him a heavy and grave look. "Goyle has found Gloria and their children."

"Lucius, I don't know what that means. Please explain before I summon lightning to smite you. Who the hell is Gloria?"

"Gloria is…" Lucius swallowed dryly. "Gloria is the she-gorilla Goyle made a family with when he and Crabbe first found this place."

Harry's face fell. "He slept with a real gorilla?"

Lucius shrugged apologetically. "They had difficulty maintaining their human side while in their animal forms. Of course I put a stop to it when I found out."

In those first few moments of disbelief when utter disgust hadn't set in yet, Harry asked the question that he would regret for his life: "How did you find out?"

"I found them in the hideout. Goyle's great hairy buttocks bouncing as he thrust like some possessed demon inside another pair of heavy jiggling-," he paused swallowing dryly again. "Well I could never forget the expression on Gloria's face: blank and patient, waiting for Goyle to finish." Lucius shuddered and missed when Harry cursed his lips off.

Π

It was two hours later; Harry and Lucius were sitting on the ground with the rampant growth of the tropical forest towering over them. Lucius was shooting Harry frightened looks while Harry was glaring at nothing in particular.

"Do you know how to track gorillas?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you know of their habits, what they eat, where they eat?"

"No."

"Did you have a plan on finding Crabbe and Goyle if they weren't in their cave?"

"No. I expected that they would be there. I never thought Crabbe would be missing and Goyle would have gone native."

"If you save 'gone native' one more time as a euphemism for copulating with a two hundred pound female gorilla I swear I will burn you at the stake right now, right here."

"I am sorry, Achelous. I have never dared share the horror of that day with anyone before. I couldn't touch Narcissa for a year after that without seeing Gloria's face."

Harry felt vomit in his throat and buried his face in his hands.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Ti la so fa mi re do and they were back to Knocturn Alley. Harry had decided it was too dark and late to find Goyle or search for Crabbe. It was obvious that Mortfidèle would not be finding them any sooner than he would and might look closer to home for support. Planning on returning there during daylight some other day with some way of tracking large primates Harry arrived with Lucius at Malfoy Manor four hours later than when Narcissa was expecting him.

The lack of sleep and fruitless assassination mission left him irate. And somewhere on the trip he had started thinking about his father's sister and it occurred to him that he should've played the sympathy card and forced her to take him with her. It would have been the simplest ploy to get close to Bianca and protect her from Mortfidèle. But he had been too disgusted in her stupidity and cautious of having anyone magical around him while he was trying to wipe out Voldemort's forces and Mortfidèle's possible contacts. However, after seeing even what the dumbest of Death Eaters could do to hide once they knew they were being hunted he found himself disheartened. _Might be better to live with Bianca and wait for them to attack her. It is inevitable anyway._

Feeling that he had reacted emotionally to a potentially fortuitous chance Harry was sitting in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor berating himself.

"Achelous, I want to apologize for the unfortunate turn of events tonight," Lucius broke through his dark thoughts. Harry looked up at the man where he was standing in front of him not having changed out of his forest wet and dirty robes.

"Next time you will give me details of what we're walking into. We will plan and not fail. I have to admit that tonight was unbelievably bizarre and I don't know how much of that was your fault. Sit down, I need to plan some things."

Lucius took a seat next to him but sat in it as if he weren't the owner of the house but a school boy expecting his teacher's reprimand. "If you would like to refresh, I have a room prepared for you."

"Thank you, but right now I want you to tell me if you have made progress in having a letter sent to me from Hogwarts?"

Lucius visibly relaxed. "Yes, Achelous, you will be pleased to know that Mathilda Robeck, another governor, will be visiting tomorrow to audit the admissions lists of the last few years. It has been a standard practice to keep track of what kind of students Hogwarts is taking in. It shouldn't create waves."

"Don't count on that. Dumbledore will be wise to it. He'll expect she is coming to see if a letter has been sent out to, what do you lot call my sister? The peace herald?"

"Yes, and the girl-who-lived. Even so, he will think Mathilda is a mere gossip trying to get ahead in the Ministry circles with privileged information. He will not expect that she is looking to match the letters sent out to the list in the book recording magical births."

"What reason did you give her for your interest?"

"I am ashamed to admit that I fueled a favorite conspiracy theory that Dumbledore picks potential wizards and witches every year and trains them elsewhere as his personal army."

"You're kidding," Harry laughed. "They believe that even now?"

Malfoy sneered, "Any fool who has met the man should know he doesn't need such subversive tactics to create unquestioning followers. He can make them sway to his will without trying. But it served our purpose so I pretended to be part of those secretly working against Dumbledore's personal army."

"Not too far from the truth is it?" Harry grinned.

"In another place and time, yes. I found myself oddly out of place."

Harry hummed in agreement realizing when Mortfidèle's return became known to Dumbledore he would suspect every Death Eater alive for aiding him. It would make Malfoy's usefulness to him that much reduced. It was problem he needed to fix. Somehow he needed Lucius to ingratiate himself to Dumbledore, to gain his trust.

"Achelous, if your name is not in the book, what will you do?"

"I will board the train and wait at the doorstep until they let me in." Harry shrugged.

"Do you believe that will work?"

"It will be my only choice if I am not in the book. I can't avoid Dumbledore's notice whether I am suddenly discovered in the lists or if I inexplicably show up at the castle gates. His eye will be on me. What matters is that I am there to protect my sister." Harry wisely left out mention of the horcrux hidden in Hogwarts or the fact that Voldemort would be going back to school that year as well.

"Loyalty to family is important." Lucius nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a bit before Lucius invited Harry to clean up again.

Harry accepted and found a bedroom prepared for him with a hot bath running. Taking his time to relax and freshen up he took advantage of the Malfoy hospitality. It was very late, almost early morning; he wondered how upset Narcissa was with them.

There were two sets of robes waiting for him as he came out of the shower wrapping a towel around himself. One set that would fit Harry Potter and another that Neville the muggle could wear. Having told Lucius not to reveal his secret identity to Narcissa he chose to stay as the muggle and after dressing in the silver and mauve robes made his way back to the drawing room. Passing a mirror he found the robes to gaudy for his taste but maybe Lucius thought it befit his station. Of course, on a wizard like Dumbledore, they would practically be dull by comparison to the rest of his wardrobe.

As he walked down the corridors to the drawing from on the first floor he passed a bedroom and heard a frantic whispered conversation inside. Lucius' voice made him stop and pay attention.

"Narcissa, stop. What has possessed you?" Lucius' sotto voiced demand came through the crack in the door. Harry magically hid himself for good measure.

"Tell me he can defeat him. He has to be able to. Why do you follow him? What does he want? You've never told me. But I don't care, just tell me he can kill that demon," Narcissa begged in hysterics.

"Who 'Cissa? What's made you go to pieces?"

"Mortfidèle," she gasped in a terrorized whisper. "He's back. Lucius, not again, please."

Harry heard her crying become muffled as he looked through a crack in the door to see Lucius put his arms around her; he couldn't see anything of her but the top of head where she had buried it in his shoulder. He wondered why Voldemort blamed his Death Eaters for abandoning him; they were more afraid of the things he did to them than the wizarding world was. _Yes, but then there were fanatics like the Lestranges. _

"The kind sorcerer gave me his word he won't let even Mortfidèle's shadow fall on you," Lucius spoke in an affectionate tone. "I have seen him summon divine beings of legend, 'Cissa. You cannot understand his power. He will keep you safe. He remade me in his magic and I have seen what he is, we can trust him."

"But what does he want? The supremacy of purebloods? Triumph of dark magic? What? I don't want another master for one of your causes, Lucius, I do not care!"

"You have never said this before to me."

"You would've killed me if I had, but something in you has changed. Please, Lucius, tell me what is happening."

"He wants our loyalty and to protect his family. He also wants the defeat of the Dark Lord and Mortfidele. That is all I know 'Cissa."

There was silence in which he heard her crying cease and Harry thought to move on but Narcissa spoke again.

"After you left, someone knocked on the door. I thought you had returned and sent Dobby to open the door. Lucius, it was Mortfidèle."

Harry's heart skipped a beat before he heard Lucius' shout "What!"

"He wants us both. He has claimed the Dark Lord's place. He touched my mark and made it burn like the old days."

"Did he harm you?" Lucius asked in a voice choked with anger.

"He reminded me of my place," she answered bitterly.

"Is he here?"

"No, he has gone to look for the others."

"We must tell Achelous now!"

Harry heard Lucius move toward the door and stepped back. But before his thrall could burst through Narcissa called him back.

"Wait, how can we trust him?"

"_I_ trust him, Narcissa, and you will too. Speak to him, tell him the truth, he has fought him before and won. I will find him and bring him."

Harry did not wait and ran quietly to the end of the corridor in the direction he had come from. Once again he held himself from reacting to what he had heard, needing to gather all the information he could. Lucius' romp in Africa had cost him, he cursed in his mind. Mortfidèle had come too close for comfort.

He saw Lucius slam out of the room and head toward him his wand drawn and a wild look on his face; Harry had truly underestimated how much Mortfidele frightened the Malfoys. If other Death Eaters felt the same way they wouldn't think twice about following his orders and obey for fear of him.

"Lucius," Harry called revealing himself from under the charms.

"_Akhnum!" _Lucius hissed and a triple twisting beam of blue light shot from his wand.

Harry blinked and it was upon him. The curse split hitting his head, chest, and abdomen. He felt the corrupting effect of excruciating pain of skin, muscle, and bone disintegration before his body cooled and the curse shrank back as if burned into the palm of his hand where it sat as a coiled azure snake.

"Get a hold of yourself, Lucius!" Harry roared; throwing the dark magic he had pulled off of himself on the floor where it crackled and slunk by his feet.

"Achelous?" Lucius ran toward him. "Forgive me, in the dark I thought you to be Mortfidèle, he's been here!"

"Next time use something less lethal when cursing people in your own home!" Harry snapped. "He came for your wife?" he asked more calmly.

"Please forgive me, Achelous. I let my fear overrule caution. Yes, while we were away hunting for those blasted buffoons he came to my home. Narcissa can tell you more, she spoke with him." Lucius turned to lead him back to the room.

"I will find her and speak to her. I need you to go put the Avery father and son under the imperius and search your estate for Mortfidèle, get your houselves to search with you and report to you ever minute what they have found. If you run into him do not duel him, summon me."

He saw Lucius hesitate, "Achelous, I haven't told 'Cissa much about you. She is skeptical and Mortfidèle tortured her again. Please be patient with her and forgive her manners. I will bear whatever punishment you deem if you're ill received by her."

Harry gave him a furious and superior look. "Mortfidèle could be hiding in your manor and you are blithering about being nice to your wife?" Malfoy looked chastised but Harry still continued coldly, "Hesitate again at my command and I will reduce you to a creature unable to wash its own shit." Lucius turned tail and went off to do as told and Harry swept to Narcissa's room.

Entering the room he saw her sitting on the edge of a love seat angled away from the doorway. A silk night gown covered robes she had probably worn for the dinner. Unlike his memories of Narcissa from his time, this one had curled her hair which fell freely on her shoulders.

Her fingers clenched her wand and were white from how hard she was holding on. He saw her attempt to hold the pureblood bred composure but it wasn't even skin deep. Her eyes took on a wary look at the azure snake of dark magic at his feet.

"Your husband tried to curse me. He thought I was Mortfidèle. This is simply the trapped curse. It won't harm you." Harry assured her coming to sit down at the edge of the bed inviting her to sit back down on the love seat.

"I have heard of your from my husband, kind sorcerer," she said his name as if it were a question. The effort it was taking her to act normally was obvious.

"Your husband shouldn't have adopted a name for me given by the ladies fair. Please call me Achelous." Harry tried to temper his irritation.

"My husband seems to be in awe of you. He says you can summon divine beings. Is it true?" she asked with real interest. In another place and time she wouldn't have betrayed her emotions so clearly. _The pureblood way is to look bored or superior, anything else is weakness, _he thought sarcastically.

"I can, but they are not my servants. They are nice enough to aid me when I need it."

Narcissa bowed her head and when she raised her eyes to him they seemed too vulnerable for a Malfoy or a Black, which she was both. "And you, Achelous, will you help us and kill Mortfidèle?"

Harry let the silence stretch until she fidgeted and realized she'd given away her nervousness. Something in her manner had behooved him to employ those magicks that had come to him as he had grown older. With a movement of his eyes, an unspoken incantation and he was palpating her inner self, the nature of her will, the soft intangible things that dictated her.

If he wanted that was where he could use his insidious magic and increase her desire to confess her secrets. She was holding something back. She was afraid but not nearly as helplessly afraid as she was pretending. There was a surety in her mind, a secret weapon somewhere.

"Narcissa let that be the last time you try to play me. You are a beautiful woman and I am a man, but don't think for a moment that you can seduce me with that act. I can see your heart; you have some other assurance against Mortfidèle than me."

She didn't know the kind of magic he had used and when she whispered 'legilimency' as if that explained it he waved her off impatiently.

"Are you an occlumens?" he asked.

"Yes, I was occluding my mind. How did you know?" she betrayed herself, unaware that he was already affecting her subtly. _Confess, confide, trust._

"You do not need to know. And since you obviously did not trust your husband was telling you the truth of my power and tried to deceive me I will give you an object lesson." He called his terrible power and fell on her soul like a boiling wave looking for her secrets, her misgivings, her pain, her happiness. He wanted to understand her before he enthralled her and he overwhelmed her with the presence of the secret magic hidden in the Department of Mysteries.

Mortfidèle had wounded her; she was bleeding as he was inside her very sense of self where she was fighting against letting her pain show. She wanted freedom; she was caged, answering to one master after another. She was undoubtedly a dark witch; rationalizing evil and dark magic by need for survival. She feared Mortfidèle and Voldemort terribly, but shockingly he saw her bowing to a kindly smiling Dumbledore. That is who her assurance was, she worked for Albus Dumbledore.

Then he saw something that made his blood cold even as the smothering heat of his mysterious magic surrounded him. He saw himself through her eyes, but not as Neville or Achelous but Harry Potter. He saw himself lying down on the cot in Privet Drive with a dark expression on his face talking to her.

Stunned, Harry withdrew, finding the graceful woman had collapsed on the love seat.

"Oh, do I have questions for you." Knowing that if she was truly in Dumbledore's employ he would have his own magic working in her he set to weaken it.

Phials flew to his hand from the pouch he carried. In the dazed witch's mouth he poured the Unctuous Unction, the Veritaserum, and the two potions besides to weaken the will and mind. Last he sat next to her and took her listless hand seeking Dumbledore's brand of magic that inclined people's thinking a certain way and predisposed them to acting in ways favorable to him.

His invasion into her heart and soul had left her frayed and he could easily feel the foreign magic against his own, as if it were his fingers brushing against a rough surface. He untangled the latent spells simply banishing them than working to understand how they were made; he didn't have the time.

Then he woke Narcissa and she began a tale of answers.

π

"So Narcissa, when did you meet Harry Potter and why?" he asked, his polyjuiced eyes cold.

"Another one of Dumbledore's errands," she derided, wincing from the wounds Mortfidèle had left on her. Harry made a mental note to heal her after he had his answers. "He sent Severus to me, like always, with his oh-so-subtle hints and nuggets of half useful information."

"He likes to tease," Harry agreed.

"You'd think he was a woman," Narcissa commented. "The boy's blood was found somewhere it wasn't meant to be. Dumbledore wanted me to check if he was still with the muggles he'd left him with. If I found the Potter boy I was to find out if he was possessed or otherwise under magical influence."

"Where was the blood found?" Harry demanded harshly, his heart racing.

"I do not know. I don't think I am meant to know what I do either; I wheedled this much out of Severus. Until Dumbledore is certain that Harry Potter is not an unwitting threat he doesn't want him close to the girl and their aunt. Severus gave me the polyjuice for Jamie Potter and the lie-easy potion. It is not the first time I have had to masquerade as her to draw pursuers from her. Dumbledore is not too concerned that I put myself at risk for the girl who lived and her aunt," she finished bitterly.

"So you went to Harry Potter's home polyjuiced like his aunt?" he did not hide his fury but Narcissa was affected too heavily by the potions and his other dark charms to notice.

"I did. Those animals keep him in a cupboard." Narcissa tossed her head angrily, for a second surprising Harry. "If I didn't have to act like the perfectly light Jamie Potter I would have boiled the pigs in their own blood for treating a child that way," she vehemently cursed.

"But he is just a squib. I am surprised you care." Harry commented half heartedly unable to believe that he had been fooled by Narcissa in his aunt's guise. The lie-easy potion was complex and powerful enough to hide all physical tells of a person, and he had fallen to its trickery.

"A child is a child, Achelous. I punched the vile woman who Dumbledore made his guardian. I have never punched anyone in my life, it was satisfying," she purred and Harry glimpsed the dark witch under the cultured exterior.

"What did you find about Harry Potter?" he asked, curiously pleased to find Narcissas so strongly in defense of his true self.

"Very intelligent and cautious. Oddly confident for a child neglected but it shows strength of will. He made me feel thoroughly stupid in my Jamie Potter impression. The limits of what I could reveal to the boy that Dumbledore put on me made it difficult to gain his trust. But he is affectionate and I was able to gain some ground in his heart, he will see me again if Dumbledore makes it necessary. I may just go to curse that Petunia woman again and get him a decent meal," she fumed.

"Was there anything besides your indignation at his treatment," Harry asked with a wry smile, off balanced by Narcissa's maternal attitude.

"He seemed too quick to be under the imperius. I did not detect a wizard or witch in the house. I don't believe he is under anyone's influence. Dumbledore will need another theory to explain why the boy's blood was wherever he has found it." She stopped in a thoughtful manner and began again with a very serious expression. "Also he looks exactly like James in his first year. I was shocked when I saw the son for the first time, and I think he noticed my fear. The last thing we need is James Potter coming back to life to become the scourge of Death Eaters once again. Not for anything did he duel and survive the Dark Lord so many times."

Harry put that interesting bit of information about his father in the back of his mind, trying to think of all the places he had lost blood recently.

"Have you reported to Dumbledore?"

"No. When I came home, Lucius told me to expect you, and later Mortfidèle arrived." The fear returned to her eyes and she hugged herself.

"Does Lucius know you work for Dumbledore?"

"No," she said panicked. "Dumbledore promised me he'd keep Lucius out of Azkaban if I spied for him, after the Dark Lord fell he has only called me when he has needed someone to double for the girl-who-lived or Jamie Potter."

"And you think that even if I fail against Mortfidèle, Dumbledore will stop him for you?"

"He has to, he owes me," she said desperately. "He must feel some loyalty towards me even if he blackmailed me into serving him. But now that I have felt your power I don't doubt you. I don't know why you would choose us for your followers but my bones are shaking from your magic." She had bowed her head as she spoke not in awe but resignation; she understood she couldn't resist him. "If I have to follow anyone I am happy that it is you our dear and closest friend."

_Ah! The Unctuous Unction is still working. _A half-smile tugged his lips realizing he had her even without having enthralled her yet. He fed her the antidotes for the potions he had used on her and waited till she remembered that he wasn't her 'dearest and closest friend' but a stranger.

Her face haggard from fear fell to bleak desolation as memory came back to her. She guessed well enough that he had bewitched her to reveal her secrets and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Can I ask you to be kind, Achelous, as you were to my husband?" A lesser woman would have begged but she asked with a certain broken dignity.

"You are in a terrible place, Narcissa. You are marked by Voldemort, my enemy, you can be controlled by Mortfidèle, also my enemy. And you secretly work for Dumbledore, who isn't my enemy but doesn't share my goals. I know that you will do cruel things on Mortfidèle's orders to people I care about so I can't allow you to live. My only other resort is for you to serve me like your husband does; but how will I know you are loyal to me when you have so many masters to answer to?" Harry left the question in the air knowing as his thrall she would have no choice in the matter, but was curious what the cunning witch would say.

He saw her stand with a slight arch in her back that thrust out her breasts covered in robes and silk nightgown she ran hand through her curled hair making it halo her fine featured face and her deceptive gray eyes – she looked like bad news that you never wanted to leave. Walking to him she traced his chin with her manicured nails: the invitation obvious.

"Kneel on the bed," he told her not leaving her eyes, not missing her suggestive smile.

She climbed the bed with a little difficulty which she tried to hide. Her leg spasmed once but she managed to perform the act in a sufficiently alluring manner.

"Take off your night gown," Harry ordered and finally showed her what he was thinking on his face. Her sexy smile fell as she realized she had made a grave mistake. Still she reached with a hand to take off her nightgown but couldn't hide the agony the movement provoked.

"I was expecting a better argument for how you would be loyal to me than an offer of your body. Do you really expect me to believe that you would follow me more steadfastly because you spread your legs for me?"

An ugly look of defeat washed over her beautiful face and she hung her head so that her hair veiled her. A single shudder through her back told him she was weeping.

"If you knew me better you'd understand how badly you insulted me with your act; that you thought I would actually take advantage of a desperate woman," his words were cold but said kindly.

A slicing charm from his wand split her night gown down her back; she didn't even react when he peeled it off of the robes she was wearing underneath. He took extra care when pulling it from her side where he knew Mortfidèle had cursed her. She had been wearing the nightgown to hide her wounds, but even if Harry had not magically invaded her mind and soul, the line of blood showing from her ankle to under her arm was obvious enough. The poor witch hadn't even noticed in her fear that blood was seeping through.

"I am impressed that you held on so long speaking to me and even tried to seduce me with these injuries. Lie down." He guided her gently to her side and placed her arm so that he could see the line of blood through her soft yellow robes. Cutting down the length he peeled aside the robes enough to see the damage while ensuring her modesty.

From under her armpit ichor oozed from bubbled black flesh like a fault line all the way down to her ankle. Her smooth skin stood out in harsh contrast to where Mortfidèle had cursed her.

"I know this curse. There is not a cure. It will heal just enough to let me live but it will never stop bleeding. He wanted me to remember what he could do to me," she explained evenly.

Harry arched a brow at her dramatics trying to remember if the counter curse was something discovered later in the time line or was simply something hidden away in tomes not commonly known. Harry felt movement before he heard it and saw Lucius enter the bedroom, a look of contained horror on his face at Narcissa's wounds. The husband and wife exchanged an unreadable look.

"The curse, was it the-?"

"Yes," Narcissa answered before Lucius could finish asking. Lucius' hand went to his temple in a show of unusual worry and he turned away. "Do I disgust you now?" she asked with a bite.

"Enough," Harry intervened before the couple could launch into an argument. He touched the top of the infected and leaking wound making Narcissa whimper and clench her eyes shut. "Hush, it will be over soon."

With his left hand cupped and sitting on one edge of the cursed flesh he brought the wand to touch on the opposite side. A near viscous and frothy looking light coiled out of the wand swirling over the wound and cupping into his left hand. Pooling the spell between wand and hand Harry drew down from Narcissa's side to her foot; wherever his hand and wand passed the swirling light washed away the curse leaving fresh smooth skin in place.

"There, you are as enchanting as ever again, Narcissa." He guided her hand to touch her healed side. Forgetting any sense of propriety she sat up feeling down her side, a teary eyed expression of disbelief and elation on her face.

Harry gave them a moment to celebrate and Narcissa to clothe herself. In the meantime he thought of the choices he was going to give her.

π

"We did not find him anywhere, Achelous. He must have left to find the others. Narcissa, did he say anything?" Lucius turned in the love seat to look at his wife who was much refreshed.

"He was going to contact those who haven't been confirmed dead. He said the Dark Lord was weak and unworthy of our loyalty anymore. He is the new Dark Lord. And strangely he ordered me to find out everything I could about the brother of the girl-who-lived, Harry Potter." She shot Harry a glance remembering he had interrogated her about how she knew the boy. Lucius gave him a meaningful look as well, in his case knowing the implication of Mortfidèle's question.

"Do you think he knows, Achelous?" Lucius asked catching Harry's repressive glare too late.

"Know what?" Narcissa looked between the two.

"She is not yet in my service, Lucius," Harry explained as Lucius closed off his expression from Narcissa scrutiny realizing he had betrayed his master unknowingly. "Leave us, your wife and I have to settle our relationship."

The dark wizard stood and turned to his wife, "Remember his kindness, 'Cissa." With that he nodded to Harry and exited the room. Narcissa looked embarrassed and out of depth.

"I have misjudged you, Achelous," she began not looking at him. "I am sorry for insulting you. You were generous when you had all the right to take me as I offered, and you were forgiving in healing me when you could have left me cursed as punishment for my audacity. Thank you."

"That cost you, didn't it?" Harry asked, accepting her apology on face value.

"I am tired of living under the yoke of one powerful wizard after another, so it galls me that I am indebted to you. But I am thankful, by Merlin, for your healing and respect." The prideful dark witch was back and Harry was attracted to how she admitted both her anger and gratitude with honesty.

"Why do you think Mortfidèle is interested in Harry Potter?"

"I cannot guess, the child is intelligent and not easily fooled, he threw me out of his house when I was feeding him ill conceived lies. But that is hardly a talent to attract both Dumbledore's and Mortfidèle's attention." She looked to him askance, knowing he had the answer to the implied question.

"He's a sweet child; kissed me to soften the blow of rejecting me until I told him the truth. It would be a shame if either Dumbledore or Mortfidèle put him to their own uses," she pressed, thinking she had some advantage, watching him with intent gray eyes.

Harry laughed, never thinking she would be advocating for him. "I will tell you but first you have to join my circle."

"Do I have a choice?" she asked all but hiding the bitterness.

"You made a choice long time ago to be the kind of person you are, Narcissa. You supported muggle born cleansing and the spread of dark magic. No, you didn't join the 'cause' like your husband did, but you believed in it until Mortfidèle forced you to commit yourself and do the dirty work.

"You made your choice, for worse, and that is why you are here today so don't you dare blame me. The people you work for mean me harm, which leaves me two options, either you die, or you join me and I insure your loyalty. So choose: death or obedience to me."

There was sweat on her brow; fear and disappointment were painted on her face. "You will protect me from Mortfidèle?"

"I have promised Lucius, yes."

She nodded. "What is it that you want, Achelous, power?"

"No. I want to save my family and destroy the dark lords because they have targeted me. That should be your goal too if you want freedom from the stupid choices you made."

She swallowed her pride and nodded again. "What about my family, will you protect us too while saving your own blood?"

"If you join me you will be one of mine Narcissa, but this guarantee is only to you and Lucius. It is up to you to reeducate Draco so he doesn't join one of the Dark Lords when he grows up. If he does he will die by my hand, I promise you that."

"How can I join you when you tell me that? He is my son!" she shouted.

Harry's eyes stayed cold. "If you join me you have a chance to save him. If you don't I will kill you this instant and it will be up to Lucius to save Draco from the wrong path, and when Draco chooses to join my enemies, I will kill him as well. This is again what you have done yourself, Narcissa."

"What of Dumbledore? He will expect my loyalty too."

"You will spy on Dumbledore for me, and you will give him every reason to believe that you repent your dark past. I have no more time tonight, make your choice now." Harry had looked at the time piece sitting on the vanity to realize that his potion would be running its course in a few minutes and he would revert to his true body.

She scoffed, "The choice is death or you. You give me the same options as Mortfidèle and the Dark Lord."

"Yet, I will protect you which even Dumbledore didn't offer you. _Choose!"_

There was a moment of suspense before she bowed. "I will follow you, Achelous." Her pride was broken.

He smiled pleasantly, an expression she missed. He could've enthralled her and never given her a choice but he was curious what she would choose of her own accord, and not he knew. It would make enthralling her that much easier. Taking out his shrunk clothes he returned them to the proper size setting them on her bed. She watched perplexed but unquestioning. Time ran out and his skin began to bubble from the change. He smirked as her confused face turned to shock.

He stood in the adult clothes and turned his back on her to change into a shirt and jeans that suited his eleven year old body that much more. Finally he reached for his circular glassed and perched them on his nose giving Narcissa a cheeky grin; she had a most common expression of bewilderment on her face.

"Well hello Aunt Jamie, who knew two can play the polyjuice game," he greeted.

"You?" she gasped. "Lucius!"

'Sorry, we're not done Jamie." Harry smiled predatorily and summoned the secret magic from Department of Mysteries. It flowed into him and through to her in one uninterrupted boiling wave. Knowing where her insecurities were and what commanded her will and emotion he reached for it, making himself her savior, and submitting her reason to his own. She was his in five heartbeats.

When Lucius burst into the room, Narcissa was kneeling in front of Harry, kissing his hand. "My lord, thank you," she said with emotion.

"She has joined us?" Malfoy asked happily.

"Yes she has. Narcissa, do not call me anything but Achelous, I don't like to be worshipped. Stand up," he ordered.

With reverence she stood up and came to stand behind him as they both faced Lucius. She put a hand on his shoulder and Harry looked up to see her so far tense and weary face was alight with the power he had filled her with and she was serene.

"You are right, Lucius, he is kind. I met him as Harry Potter once, I was wrong to fear you."

"It's alright." Harry patted her hand on his shoulder, curious at her possessives.

"Lucius, call Dobby, dinner has to be served. That depraved bitch of his aunt doesn't feed him." Then she turned to Harry. "You should rest, Achelous, it must be past your time to sleep."

Lucius arched a questioning brow and shared a confused look with Harry.

_Oh hell! I'd struck her maternal instincts before I had even enthralled her, she will be impossible now, _Harry realized, groaning.

"Achelous, please allow me to teach that creature a lesson. I hope she isn't part of the family you want to protect," she asked as if the idea was unthinkable.

_Yeah, this is going to be interesting. _

"You want to boil her in her own blood, right?"

"Slowly," she amended with a homicidal glint in her eye.

"Let's eat first." Harry sighed following Lucius out the door with Narcissa's hand firmly on his shoulder.

π

The wand in his hand shook as foul smoke curled from the corpse at his feet and his face was pulled in a grimace of loathing. Entering Avery Jr.'s soul was a vile experience and he shuddered from disgust. Even Lucius was less repulsive; the man had stayed above the more degenerative practices.

"Achelous," Lucius called him in a whisper, too afraid to speak up.

They were in the Malfoy Manor dungeons. Harry had attempted to enthrall Avery Jr. but had lashed out torturing him from the inside out; burning, twisting, and rending for a half hour until the pile of muscle and bone was left smoldering unrecognizable as once having been human.

"Did he scream?" Harry asked.

"He didn't stop screaming for even a second," Narcissa answered, pale and having thrown up.

"Lucius, you will remind me to tell the dead Avery Jr. has passed over. They will hound him as he deserves."

"Yes, Achelous." Lucius bowed, terrified.

Harry strode over to where Avery Sr. was standing under the influence of mind and will weakening potions, but not so much that he didn't understand what had just happened. Looking up into the man's face Harry could see that he knew how to carry himself, giving off an air of a muggle general. His heavy set shoulders and broad face made for a commanding presence.

"Was the father as bad as the son? Did he," Harry couldn't find the word in near apoplectic rage for a moment, 'defile innocents like his son?" he spat.

"Avery Sr. led the celebrations and taught how to strike fear in our victims. He was the Dark Lord's right hand in that endeavor," Lucius answered honestly for fear of attracting his lord's anger if he said anything otherwise.

But Harry was glaring up at the old Death Eater, a classmate of Voldemort's, with hate maddened eyes.

"You will die for siring a wretched demon like your son. But before that you will obey me, helplessly, unwaveringly, and if I can help it with mind blinding agony. When you are done I will create hell on earth for you and not let you escape it as quick as I let your son. You will suffer, I swear it on my children's heads. _Oriri Atrox!" _

Earth erupted in the dungeon, rock tore out and trapped Avery Sr. as he tried screaming. Golden strands of the terrible power flowed from Harry's wand and came out of the undulating earth like spear headed chains and pierced his heart and eyes. Avery Sr. flailed a ululating howl tearing out of his throat as the mysterious power suppressed his will and mind with all vengeance. Harry left him his memory so he would know in every moment that he was his tool and be in endless torture.

When he released him, Avery Sr. fell on all fours, whimpering "Master, master, master," and bleeding on the concrete floor.

"Go to your home, wait for Mortfidèle. Join him and spy on him, report to me directly. Get out of my sight!"

Π

Narcissa draped a cloak over him that fit his young body as he stood in the doorway of the Malfoy Manor. Lucius waited attentively and Narcissa hovered behind him where she felt was her place, at his beck and call.

"Lucius, go where Mortfidèle can't find you or Narcissa. Also make a public appearance; I want you back influencing your contacts in the Ministry. Find me all the remaining Death Eaters, anyone Mortfidèle is likely to call to his side."

"Yes, Achelous." Lucius kneeled showing more submissiveness than what Harry liked but he understood he had frightened his thralls.

"Narcissa, you will return to Dumbledore. Tell him how your meeting went with Harry Potter before you knew he and Achelous are the same. You must tell him that Mortfidèle has returned and has claimed himself the Dark Lord. Do not tell him he is interested in Harry Potter."

"As you wish, Achelous." Narcissa bowed like her husband.

"Both of you try to find where Dumbledore is hiding my sister. We have to protect her. Mortfidèle believes I am a squib but for some reason command the wizard who has killed the Death Eaters. He is wary of me. Hopefully he will come after me before he goes after my sister, but she needs to be protected. Lucius, it is up to you to convince the Minister of Magic to send Aurors to protect the girl-who-lived."

"Ludo is gullible, it will be easy to influence him. Do you wish me to tell him of Mortfidèle?"

"Ludo?" Harry asked not knowing who Malfoy was referring to.

"Ludo Bagman is the Minister of Magic, Achelous."

"Now that's just fucked up," Harry muttered, shaking his head. "Yes, if he won't react stupidly and refuse to believe you, tell him." _Just come to me so I can save Sirius,_ Harry sent a silent prayer, heartily wishing he didn't have to balance his godfather's life against others and especially his newfound sister's.

Harry saw Narcissa hesitate on speaking next to him and he nodded encouraging her.

"Do you know where Dumbledore found your blood? You might be in danger if he finds out your power. He won't think you a light wizard because you have killed so many," she worriedly questioned.

"No, I do not know. If you can find anything from Severus, that will help. When I show up at Hogwarts it will be suspicious enough. Hopefully he didn't find blood at a damning place." He stood contemplating for a moment. "I am desperately tired now. Thank you for your hospitality, stay safe."

"Achelous, may I escort you? If Mortfidèle is after you it won't be safe to go to a muggle house," Narcissa quickly put in.

"I can take care of myself." Harry gave a perfunctory smile to ease her mind.

"Please," she insisted, and Lucius nodded adding his silent vote to her request.

"Fine, let's go." He grabbed her arm and apparated straight into his warded room.

Π

The room seemed smaller with two people in it. The table for potions, the writing desk, reading chair, and, of course, the bed took much of the floor space. Harry motioned her to sit and divested himself of the usual things he carried. Mentally too old to care that a woman was in the room with him he changed into clothes for bed. He looked over his shoulder to find that she had politely chosen to inspect his potions while he undressed.

"So, perfectly safe. Please, go home now, I want you and Lucius at a safe location before tomorrow night." He said this as he noticed dawn already peeking through the window. He hoped the woman Lucius had sent to Hogwarts would find his name in the book. It would be relatively easier showing up at the school with an invitation instead of without one, even if both ways his reception would be suspicious.

"I just wanted to make certain." Narcissa came around and folded down the covers on his bed.

Resigning himself to the treatment Harry got in and before he could pull up the sheets she was already tucking him in. Then she waved her wand and a cool breeze began circulating in his room, making him thankful for the covers even if it was summer. The wind relaxed him as it played on his face and he felt his eyelids droop.

"May I return the favor," she asked quietly, turning off the electric lights.

"Sure," Harry said yawning, having no clue what she was talking about.

Then he felt lips press to his brow and realized Narcissa had left him a kiss like he had when she came to him just earlier the past day as his paternal aunt. He smiled in amusement.

"Thank you, Narcissa, goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, Harry Potter," she whispered near his ear, her hair brushed against his cheek before he heard the crack of disapparation and she was gone.

Π


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When he woke the setting sun was directly in his eyes. It had been dawn when he had gone to sleep, yet he felt tired and sluggish; not refreshed after having slept the whole day. Putting on his spectacles while dangling his legs over the bed he hunched, feeling the weight of everything that had happened just over the past two days.

From discovering Sirius was the Hidden Hand to hunting for Death Eaters in Africa, to enthralling Narcissa, and killing the owner of one of the most putrid souls he had every seen, he had had no time for the usual demons that haunted his mind. The series of crisis had kept him from thoughts of his dead family and the fact that he would never, ever be able to save them. But, as always, they were the first thing in his mind when he awoke – he spied the whiskey glass by the window. The sun's last orange rays lit up the liquor like it was a jewel, sending its color to dance with the light on the wooden floor of the bedroom.

Walking to the glass he weighed doing the right thing and not drinking or giving in and just easing his mind. _A little won't hurt either way, won't help or harm_, he rationalized taking a nearly pious sip. Glancing out the window at the sun he noticed movement on the street. The neighbors were peeking out of their houses and coming to stand opposite the Dursley home looking at it with shocked faces.

Harry frowned wondering what was going on, searching their expressions for some clue till he noticed a tall man with a fuzz of hair covering his face and head catch his eyes and smile pleasantly. Anywhere else he would have returned the smile, but the man dressed in a muggle long coat was Sirius Black or rather Mortfidèle – his vertically slit black eyes glinted in the dying sun.

Everything slowed and sped up as Harry whipped around dropping the whiskey glass to the floor where it shattered. He transfigured a door back on the wall where it used to be, but before he could open it, blood spilled from the slit under the door. Riding the wave of blood came black finger-long insects of some kind. One look at them and Harry knew they weren't natural: a string of green eyes stared up from the ridge on each insect's back, running down its length, too human to be anything but demonic.

"Son of a bitch! You sent a demonic plague!" Harry screamed not caring for once that his rage was translated into a child's voice. "_Inflamare!_"

The insects writhed in pain and escaped the flames but were not killed; more poured over the blood slicking the floor. Harry pulled the door open with a shield around himself, prepared to conjure fire more magically powerful than the simple 'inflamare' charm. A wall of sound struck him stunning him to stupidity as he realized it was the screams of his relatives and the blood pooling into his door was from his corpulent cousin rolling in the hallway. The plague insects crawled over him so Harry couldn't see anything of him; their mandibles in place of legs were biting and tearing out of him all the while their ridge lined eyes stared humanly at Harry. Blood spurted from the spaces between their myriad bodies ravaging Dudley.

Before Harry could try and save his cousin the abominations sprouted wings from the sides of their ridges and suddenly the air was thick with them. Harry was blanketed in a night with miniscule green eyes measuring him like he was an interesting oddity. They swirled around him hiding all light and sound but the buzzing of their wings.

It had taken them only a moment but the beat of their wings like a devilish war chant had penetrated his mind to make him feel as if he had been drowning in the malevolent cacophony for hours. They tightened the wall around him about to plunge their pincers and puncture him like a balloon taught with blood.

As if from very far away he heard his own voice speaking in an ancient, nearly extinct Greek dialect. His incantation conjured a lit candle of pure white wax carved drawings in it showing gods on errands. Harry held it in front of himself like a shield. The wick on the candle hissed and spat as the creatures tried to get close to him and were burned in blinding silver flame. Harry leapt forward thrusting his hand deep into the living ball of green eyes and they burst into motes of silver light, destroyed.

"If you summon demons' plague I will call divine grace, you bastard. _Precor Hera!_" he chanted the second part of the spell in an enraged cry and the very sound of Olympus's war drums thrummed from the candle, sending a shockwave through the demonic plague of a million lidless insects swarming his house.

The closest burned in the silver light and the furthest poured out of doors like water, leaving streaked blood on the walls and floor. Harry caught sight of Dudley: naked, lacerated, and trembling like the picture of ground meat alive when it shouldn't be.

Harry stared at him in horror realizing that _Dudley_ was the conduit of the plague. His wards wouldn't have allowed Mortfidèle to attack without him realizing it, but he hadn't planned against this. The stain of dark magic on Dudley, the very dark magic Harry had cast on him, had made him such an irresistible Trojan's horse for Mortfidèle.

He ran toward Petunia's and Vernon's room where he heard the screaming from earlier. Bursting through the door he saw the remnants of the plague leaving. It was too late.

Petunia was smashed against the dresser, a damned smear on the furniture; her front was chewed out but the sides and back remained untouched in some macabre mercy. She was face less. Harry puked on the ground seeing the viscous liquid of her eyes streaming with the blood of her meatless face.

Vernon was on the other side of the bed, apparently having fallen down while trying to fight off the insects. After seeing Petunia Harry didn't even go close, the pool of blood coming from him and the lack of any noise was enough to tell him that he too was dead.

Rushing back out to see if Dudley was still breathing Harry found the walls coated in the green eyed insects again. They were all buzzing in their rhythmic dissonance raising his hackles.

"_Precor Hera!_" he cried again, making the wick of the ornate candle spit and hiss as the beat of Olympian drums went out and its light brightened many fold. It touched each creature of darkness destroying it in bursts of silver fire.

But as the light returned to its resting shimmer of protection around his person Harry saw that Dudley had stopped breathing looking like a piece of porous volcanic rock from whom the demons had torn out of. He was dead.

"He was a kid, just a small time idiot of a bully," Harry said to no one.

A loud creak and crash made him look up to see that the stair case had fallen to the ground floor; he looked around to see that the walls were chewed out too. Another ominous cracking sound behooved him to move. _Survive first, agonize second_, he repeated a mantra he had taught to and shouted at many young aurors and his own children.

The house was coming down.

Harry jumped back into his secret room, knowing he couldn't salvage anything and sent a wide pulverizing curse that gutted the room and crushed everything to indistinguishable bits. It was the last thing the second floor could take and the whole thing came down.

Wand forming a bubble shield around him held in one hand and the candle in the other Harry fell to through the floor. The magical sphere bounced him on the jagged corners of the broken staircase setting him flat in the middle of the foyer where he could saw the house crumple upon him.

π

People's screaming and yelling made him realize he had passed out and was buried under the house. Someone walked over the boards holding him down and he yelled angrily.

"Someone's here!" he heard the idiot standing over him shout.

"Get off, you're killing me!"

"Sorry."

He heard the man move off and all around him the remains of the walls, ceiling, and pipes shook as more people rushed to where he was buried. He tried to move his limbs to see if anything was broken and found his face blinded by the candle as he turned to his left hand. He had somehow been saved by support beams crisscrossing over him to leave him a cubby hole of sorts to be buried in. He had enough freedom to bring the candle close and blow it out, tucking it away in his clothes, where he also hid the wand. With all the muggles around it wouldn't do to come out swinging a wand.

"Get out of my way. _Avada Kedavra!_"

"Stop! In the name of the Ministry of Magic, surrender!"

"I don't surrender to anyone, I am Mortfidèle, Ministry worm. _Crucio!_"

Shouts of spells, sounds of a magical duel roared around him and he realized that the Ministry must have arrived just as Mortfidèle was trying to get to him again. _He's half Voldemort, no way the aurors can win_. He furiously thought of what he should do, anything magical would be suspicious later, but being slowly crushed by the remains of the house only to be found by Mortfidèle later was not an option either.

_Oriri Atrox_, he summoned his secret magic where it simmered just under his conscious mind. He was prepared and armed, even without brandishing a wand he was deadly when the mysterious power was at his fingertips. If nothing else he would blow Mortfidèle with himself and the house if he got too close._ Goddamn it, Sirius! Just run away._

_Wingardium Leviosa._ The beams and walls covering him began to move gently, Harry looked for spaces between them that he could crawl out of making the muggles and wizards think he had found a mundane and un-magical way to get out. Someone's screams of agony and Sirius' deep laugh echoed; for a moment Harry was stunned at hearing the same laugh he had last heard before Sirius fell into the veil of death. He couldn't believe it was the same man.

Enraged by Voldemort's schemes corrupting his brave and noble godfather, Harry thrust himself out of the debris uncaring for the cuts and bruises he suffered along the way. He surfaced into a night lit up by magic, a scene he knew only too well. To his horror the people dueling Sirius, still in the long coat he had bought him, were the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, there to ensure that the International Statute of Secrecy wasn't broken, not to duel a Dark Lord.

He couldn't let Mortfidèle kill them.

He couldn't let them kill Sirius.

He couldn't let anyone know he could do magic.

He couldn't waste time being undecided, because just then Mortfidèle turned his attention to him.

"You survived? Oh I knew Voldemort should have killed you instead of going for your sister. No matter, I will correct all his mistakes," Mortfidèle spoke cheerily as if he were sitting with him for tea. He sauntered over cursing, casting, and bewitching while talking to him.

_Voldemort's homicidal streak with Sirius' sunny personality, just what I need_, Harry thought as he climbed back over the broken brick wall. He watched the wizards and witches try to circle Mortfidèle and find an opening in his defense but it was impossible.

The dark wizard cast magic like conducting an orchestra; beauty so precise it was deadly. They were falling to his spells contorted, petrified, in prisons conjured inside their minds, not even breaking his stride as he moved as the inevitable toward Harry.

Harry stopped. His magic was there, all it lacked was his will. He would wait for Mortfidèle to get close enough and then…_no, I'll go to him_. There was no time lost between thought and action: Harry gamboled over the destroyed house's rubble, hardly aware of his own injuries and shortened the distance between himself and the contender for Dark Lord.

"Finally you start working with me. Come, come!" Mortfidèle cheered him on, waving his wand with a flair and thrashing the Squad wizards literally into the ground making the asphalt buckle where he slammed them.

"Drop your wand, you are under arrest!" a bass voice magically loud distracted them both; the aurors had arrived.

Bloody Hell! Harry cursed knowing that even if he could handle obliviating the four Magical Reversal Squad wizards and witches the Aurors were a completely different kettle of fish. They _expected_ someone to obliviate them and were prepared. He couldn't do what he was planning on.

"Cheers! Sit down for a moment, son. I will be with you after murdering this runt." With that Mortfidèle sent a decapitation hex straight at the wizened Auror and turned back to Harry; only to receive a brick in his face.

Ordinarily an attack of opportunity like that wouldn't work, but not a little bit of wandless magic made the brick into a rocket. Mortfidèle fell down tripping over the debris and into an inconvenient hole to the cellar.

"Oh that's a mean throw!" a young woman's voice came and Harry looked to find her running up to him. His eyes widened in happy recognition of a very young Nymphadora Tonks, younger even than when he had first met her.

"I play cricket a lot," he explained with a weak smile.

"Intern Tonks get down here and bring the boy, now!" the wizened Auror shouted, and Tonks without any preamble lifted him in a fireman's carry running nimbly over the ten thousand bone breaking and ankle spraining hazards. Harry's heart was in his throat as the athletic girl bounced him thinking she'd break his and hers neck any moment with a comically tragic fall.

She didn't fall until reaching level ground.

But she managed to elbow him in the kidneys doing it.

Harry cried out feeling tears in his eyes as she apologized. An explosion silenced them all. Harry rolled in panic crouching to a ready position and saw the Aurors who had rushed to apprehend Mortfidèle in the cellar blasted into the air. Instead of following gravity's call they stayed suspended in air with chokers of blue smoke around their necks slowly killing them.

Mortfidèle apparated in their midst favoring a leg and a bloodied face, but without missing a beat cursed the remaining Aurors with a dark curse Harry had last seen his own son use. Their limbs were transfigured into each other so the three wizards became a hideous spider looking creature, keening painfully in inhuman voices.

The way to Harry was clear for Mortfidèle save Tonks who Harry realized with alarm had taken a dueling stance with not a hint of fear on her face. Harry searched the night and the mob of muggles and remaining M.R. Squad wizard for anyone who could help. Most had fallen back in favor of giving the Aurors room but only their captain the wizened looking one was left and his spells were being deflected behind Mortfidèle's back without him even looking.

"Move girl, I have a bone to pick with the runt about all my Death Eaters being killed," he said with his free hand wiping sweat off his brow, while he easily took care of the Auror captain, heedless of his furious spellwork.

Harry stepped forward and Tonks pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. "The runt is with me, you've got to get through me first. Cute coat, by the way, what did you say your name was?" She winked at Mortfidèle and Harry gave her the most appalled look he could conjure.

"You're hitting on me in the middle of all this?" Mortfidèle asked a little stunned himself.

"Well it really is a dashing jacket. So who are you?"

Mortfidèle gave Harry an unreadable look then burst out laughing just like Sirius. The Auror Captain had crept close enough to physically hit Mortfidèle which seemed to be just what he wanted. At the precise moment the captain swung a kick, Mortfidèle spun disarming the Auror and using both wands to spear him with black swords nailing him to the ground. The Auror howled in pain and Harry noticed Tonks' face fall; she had thought she was distracting Mortfidèle.

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted and Harry sighed inside almost wanting to lecture the girl.

Mortfidèle caught the spell with the Auror's wand bouncing it like a ping pong ball. "Really now? Move girl, I like your tenacity, but can you really stand against the Hidden Hand?"

Apparently that title had some meaning because Nymphadora lost the abundance of color on her face. "You're not real," she gasped.

_I can't wait anymore, I guess the secret will have to come out. Damned Aurors_, he cursed resolving to reveal himself. He spied the M.R. Squad wizard disillusioning himself.

"Enough talk, your friend is trying something stupid, yet again. Stand away from the boy. On the other hand," he said in a wondering tone, "Never mind, _Avada Kedavra!_"

Strength borne of fear of his friend's life made him leap in front of her.

He thought _not again_ before the incantation in his head: _Precorara maternum!_

A translucent woman with red hair blowing in a gale somewhere beyond the veil appeared with her hand outstretched. The green death shot through her to Harry who had just managed to shield Nymphadora's heart with his head, he was too small to shield her more - the killing curse hit him dead in the face.

π

Nymphadora had been having the time of her life that summer. Selected right out of her fifth year at Hogwarts by the Auror Corps she had been serving as the go-get-it girl for the department and loving it. Every now and then a senior Auror would take her on a field assignment and she would learn the job.

Her second summer as an intern with the Aurors and they were taking her seriously after she had made a point by morphing into the Director of Magical Law Enforcement and sent them on a wild goose chase through the ministry for a panties thief. Finally she was learning to be a dark wizard catcher and getting a head start on when her official first year as Trainee Auror would begin after her NEWTs; all that before she had turned seventeen.

Old Wayne Rivers had taken a shine to her after berating her like any other young wizard who had pranked the senior Aurors. She had gained more practical experience in investigation and dark wizard modus operandi than even the second year Auror Trainees. So when a call from the Magical Reversal Squad came about a possible demonic summoning and mass magical breach old Wayne Rivers picked her to tag along with the team at the office.

Not five minutes later a cursed M.R. Squad witch used her emergency portkey straight to the Auror department reporting casualties. Old Wayne Rivers had yelled at her for stopping to adjust her sports bra and she hadn't even minded being humiliated in front of the other wizards because she was excited about her first hunt.

She had rehearsed her opening spells, her official "Hands up!" lines thinking of using the deep grating voice she used to annoy the senior aurors in thinking Mad-Eye Moody was doing a surprise inspection.

All the excitement and dramatic lines had bled away from her mind as she held the thin boy in her arms kneeling in the muggle street. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream and tears streamed from her eyes but her mind didn't register what was going on. She had seen her own death so clearly but then the boy had jumped in front of her, only reaching chest high - just high enough to die for her.

His green eyes stared blankly up at her getting rained on by her tears.

She looked at the man who had killed him, the man who had said he was the Hidden Hand, a ghost story told of the old war. The man was kneeling in front of her and screaming at the boy his own eyes wet on his bloody face so different from the haughty and laughing dark wizard she had just faced.

"Merlin, I killed Lily's son. No, no, Harry, Harry!" he shouted and she stared at him in incomprehension. _Is he sad for killing him?_

"Get away from him," she mumbled then seemed to realize that she couldn't hear her own voice. "Get away!" she shouted and he recoiled as if she had struck him.

"Tell Dumbledore the Hidden Hand is back. Tell him he will try to kill Bianca next," he told her in a dead voice, shrugging off the magical robes the M.R. Squad wizard had sent snaking around his arms, and then he disapparated.

She looked at the empty place he had been balefully.

"I-I'll get help," the M.R. Squad wizard stammered and popped away. She didn't acknowledge him looking at the boy who had saved her.

The red haired woman appeared in front of her startling her. She was translucent as before but where her face had been deadly furious before it was peaceful and she crouched by her brushing the boy's hair with her intangible fair hands. She was clothed in a simple robe but the slight luminescence about her and the serene smile made her seem angelic.

"Shh, sweetheart," she said looking into Nymphadora's eyes caressing her wet cheek, but the pretty witch didn't feel the touch even though the woman's words reached right into her heart. "Be a good friend to my son, make him laugh, and don't cry."

Nymphadora's nodded at the kindly woman's echoing words and watched her kiss the dead boy's eyes, able to see their green through her transparent form. Then she disappeared and the boy in her arms drew a desperate breath and flailed trying to get up accidentally slapping her.

"You're alive?" she screamed jumping up and dropping him off her lap. When he thumped on the ground with a protest she realized what she had done and knelt to grab him again, unknowingly crushing his ribs.

"He won't be alive much longer," old Wayne Rivers spoke through the pain of two swords nailing him to the road, "Intern Tonks, if you don't let him breathe."

She let him go and he drew an exaggerated breath. "Damn, woman, I thought you were going to suffocate me in your tits."

Nymphadora laughed and sobbed, relieved that he was alive and in scandalous disbelief at what he had said. She lit up her wand and looked at him in awe – why had he saved her?

There was a wound on his face that bled awfully where he had been hit by the killing curse; most of the blood had been wiped against her chest where she had hugged him. With her thumb she wiped the rest away, saying "sorry" when the boy winced from the pain. A shape appeared under the blood; something she could only describe as a sunburst, a star just at the moment of nova, its streaks of exploding light going out from a pound coin sized perfect circle.

"We should help, I think they might die," the boy drew her attention from the strange scar to where old Wayne Rivers was hyperventilating.

The sight of her mentor impaled on the ground and the slowly choking Aurors who were usually a pain in her ass but still comrades of a sort made her momentarily forget the amazing magic she had seen. She went to their aid with the extraordinary assistance of the boy, something she would choose later not to share with the Ministry. The fact that the boy had survived the killing curse wouldn't plague her thoughts till her mentor brought it up, but she never forgot the enchanting woman's request or that the boy had died for her.

π

Harry stood nearly forgotten at the edge of the lawn and property of No. 4 Privet Drive. The once perfectly maintained house was so much strewn concrete, wood, and metal. Somewhere in there were his relatives. The remains of the house were being crawled over by wizards from the Ministry looking for survivors. He had told one of them they were dead, but the witch had dismissed him with the words "we shouldn't lose hope, dear." Harry hadn't tried to help after that and just stood there with a sense of disconnect; too afraid to know what he would feel if he allowed himself too.

The neighborhood too was inundated with Obliviators, Aurors, Unspeakables from the Demonic Investigation and Containment Squad (otherwise known as DICS), Healers, and a few Ministry higher ups. They had healed his injuries, nothing serious by his standards, except the dull ache on his face left by the killing curse. That had drawn some attention, in fact there was a group of Healers, Aurors, and Ministry brass standing in a tight circle safe in their assumption that Harry didn't know they were talking about him and shooting him odd looks.

There was a muffled cry of shock and not so muffled sound of a wizard throwing up – he had found Vernon Dursley. Harry watched along with the audience of wizards and witches as his uncle's remains were levitated out of the ruins. They tittered in horror and disgusted Harry who could only think that Vernon had survived better than the other two. His face was intact and stretched in a rictus of unaccountable agony but under his chest there was nothing but a great open and empty cavity, he had been eaten alive as well. The legs were only marginally connected to the torso, perhaps it was the remains of the clothes that kept him together.

"Come on, lad, you shouldn't be here," the owner of the hand on his shoulder said. Harry brushed him off, uncaring of who he was and walked to where the Unspeakables had swarmed around Vernon; their voices loud in unbridled enthusiasm.

He squeezed his way through, heedless of the protests and stared at Vernon from head to toe. The man had been vile to him, but it was so very long ago in his mind, from his eyes over thirty years ago or more, he simply couldn't see that he deserved to go that way. _A drunk driver was what he deserved to die from, not this._

The Unspeakables around him chose to ignore his presence as other officials pressed closer. They were talking excitedly about which demon had been summoned or what ritual was consistent with the alignment of the stars the night before. Harry made eye contact with the Magical Reversal Squad wizard who was the last of his team; the man was holding a white sheet looking awkward and mildly repulsed by the DICS. Wordlessly Harry took the sheet from him and covered Vernon, again heedless of the protests.

"Look here, we have to investigate the event. We can't have children playing around!"

"Have some dignity," Harry said not looking at the pompous fool, it didn't matter they all even looked the same. Silence met his words. "At least wait till I am gone before you play with your bloody science project."

"See here!" another voice began angrily but was cut short by one of the Healers present clearing his throat in a very aggressive manner. Harry glanced at the broad bearded Healer and was satisfied to see a look promising extreme pain to anyone who interrupted Harry.

"I want to bury them. When you're done, leave me that, please," he said this to the one man they seemed to be deferring to. The thin and short wizard who looked like he had seen too much nodded deeply.

"Of course. We will be very respectful."

Satisfied Harry moved away leaving a disquieted crowd behind. He passed the group who were strictly discussing him while stupidly unaware he could hear them and went to where they had found Vernon. He caught the attention of the wizards and witches working there.

"My aunt should be close. They were in the same room. She will look worse than him."

Pale faces silently nodded to him beginning to search more fervently as if wanting to get the horror over with. They found her; they tried to pull him away before the witch who found her brought her out. The workers passionately pleaded with the Healers and Aurors, anyone, to take him away before they brought her out. Harry wouldn't budge. _Why?_ He asked himself, but did not know the answer so he stayed.

Nymphadora stood by his side taking his hand, Harry allowed her to use him for support. She hugged him harder with every second Petunia's body was revealed until she gasped and kneeled by him, her hand over her mouth and eyes wide at the sheer depravity of what had happened to Petunia.

The smell of sick grew and still Harry watched and vowed that Mortfidèle would suffer before his death.

"It is not right for a child to view so much, he will be traumatized!"

"He is already traumatized, he needs to see that it was real," another voice argued tiredly.

"He is not one of your veteran Aurors, Rivers. He is a child!"

Harry tuned out the argument realizing maybe that was exactly what he was doing there. He needed to realize it was real, he needed it to sink in. He needed to let himself feel so he found out what it is that he would feel.

An owl squawked above drawing every magical person's attention as the letter bearing avian spiraled down to Harry. An official stepped forward to take the letter, while Harry absently stroked the bird, waiting for them to find Dudley.

Taking pity on the M.R. Squad's survivor he walked up to him where he was searching the rubble. The wizard had already been ill over his friends and Petunia.

"Mister, please take a break. My cousin is the last…and he…you shouldn't see him."

"Why?" he asked in a voice hollow from emotional exhaustion.

Harry realized that he was answering the question for a lot more ears than the wizard he wanted to save from the nightmares. They had all quieted to listen to him. "Because he is the worst of them all. If you find bones or meat, it will probably be him, he doesn't look human."

"Okay, okay," the wizard nodded walking off and away from the scene, knowing he was beyond his limit.

The Ministry official who had taken the letter intended for him walked over to him with Nymphadora in tow.

"Mr. Potter, this is a terrible time to say, but, well, that is…you have been invited to attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Welcome to the magical world," he said handing Harry the green inked letter.

"Thank you," Harry said, then looked the young man straight in the face. "I am sorry, sir, this is a bad time to tell you. But you're standing in my cousin's face."

The man yelped falling on his back and pulling his feet messed with gore of Dudley's porous face, a cheek and eye stayed stuck to his polished shoe as he yelled terrorized crawling back and shaking his foot to get it off.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Somehow after seeing Dudley's face stuck to a man's shoe Harry gained perspective and a weight lifted off of him. _It's going to give me nightmares for a while, but I'll be alright in a couple of days, just like always._

It hadn't been grief for his relatives that had made him numb it was the sheer _unexpected_ and unreal violence of it. Even in the two wars he had lived through somehow the Dursleys had persevered, untouched, untarnished in their mundanely malicious suburbanism. Except he did feel some small regret because he had been a father and lost his own children and saw them as precious creatures, even one as wasteful as Dudley gained his pity in dying as horribly as he did. The small measure of guilt was balanced by the fact that he had not condemned the Dursleys as he had those he sent on errands he knew they wouldn't come back from in the last war. He would allow guilt only for his direct decisions and shrug off what came incidentally. And the Dursleys were nothing but incidental in the war he had started with Voldemort and ended up fighting against Mortfidèle.

_At least I have my letter, now I have to get to Bianca and then Hogwarts. I might find answers to save both her and Sirius there. _

He had allowed himself to be taken away far from the rubble where the Ministry workers were clearing Dudley's remains with gray faces. Others were finishing setting the wards that made the house invisible to muggles in its true nature making it seem like an empty lot. Still more were enchanting the neighborhood to sleep through the racket and not remember anything when they awoke.

Tonks, so young and fragile, stood by him worn from the night but having a kind of unending energy he knew only came when people tried desperately to make sense of a travesty. He guided her to sit down on the curb matching her when she kicked out her feet.

"We can't put him in an orphanage now, he has a Hogwarts letter. What do we tell the muggles supposed to help him look for a family? It doesn't make sense," it was the broad Healer Harry had noticed before arguing with a group of people who all looked about as certain as a burlesque show dancer at an ecclesiastic conference. That is, not at all.

"What are we to do with him? He's a muggle born, he might be more comfortable with muggles. Imagine the shock of going into a magical household before he's been to Hogwarts," one of the nameless bureaucrats spoke next, irritating Harry.

_Muggle orphanage is best_, Harry mused. _I can strike out on my own from there, could get a house elf or two from Lucius. Best of all no magical guardian to poke about in my secrets._

Just as he was about to add his own two cents about his future Tonks got up red in the face, Harry thought she was going to be sick again but instead she stalked to the group of wizards and witches.

"How can you talk about him like that? He's right there! His whole family was killed and you want to send him to an orphanage? Are you crazy or just stupid?" she hollered.

"Intern Tonks!" a witch Auror snapped trying to hush her. Harry walked to his friend slowly, standing behind her ready to pull her back before she harmed her career. But he had to act like a child too and couldn't just make her shut up.

"I owe him a life debt. I'm taking him home." Tonks crossed her arms over her chest.

"You are not of age, Miss Tonks. A slip of a girl of sixteen can't take responsibility for a child, especially one who from this night on will be known as the _boy_-who-lived." The wizard punctuated his sentence with a tap of his polished dark cane on the ground. Harry hid his smile at Lucius' entrance; he had gathered all attention to himself with ease, bowing his groomed head in greeting, looking as if he was always stylishly dressed past midnight.

Tonks deflated being reminded of her age and knowing she had no legal standing to take Harry in.

"My mother and father love kids," she retorted.

Lucius was on the verge of deriding her silkily again when he saw Harry gesture to him not to. "She protected me. I like her," he said in as child-like way he could, gaining a few smiles from the bureaucrats. Lucius nodded in an imperceptive acknowledgment of Harry's command even as Tonks muttered that she hadn't done a very good job of it.

"I am sure Miss Tonks brought honor to her family by her actions. I am sorry for dismissing your concern for the boy," Lucius quite gracefully apologized stunning everyone.

"Aw, thanks Uncle Lucius." Tonks cheekily smiled and Harry saw a flash of irritation on his thrall's face before he matched her daring.

"You are as sweet as you were when running naked in the garden chasing gnomes as a toddler."

Tonks blushed furiously. The witch Auror cleared her throat trying to head off a fight that was likely to break out whenever a member of a disowned pureblood family met one of those who were in good standing.

"Mr. Malfoy it is good to see that you are well. We received a letter from the Minister informing us that you had escaped the serial killer. May I ask why you are here, however?" she asked him somehow not wording the suspicion that was all too clear in her stance. Harry made note of the stocky blond Auror wondering if she could be use to him later.

"As a Hogwarts governor I was appalled to find out that a magical child who had already been overlooked in the owl invitations sent out this year was attacked by a dark wizard using demonic summoning, no less."Here he affected a troubled expression. "As I was leaving the Minister's office his good secretary informed us both of what was happening. The Minister was able to convince me to wait till the Aurors contained the situation but I have come as soon as I heard word that it was secure. And none too soon, we are once again about to do poorly by the boy. I cannot stand for it. I ask leave to take the boy to my home. I can provide for him."

"Horse shit," a bass voice calmly but very clearly commented. "Malfoy you're as dark as the bastard who tried to kill the child. You think I am so much a fool that I will let a Death Eater walk off with the boy-who-lived?"

"I could never quite say _how_ much of a fool you are, Wayne Rivers," Lucius retorted without bite taking off his gloves and tucking them in a pocket. He gave a condescending look to the the Auror naked from the waist up to facilitate the bandages covering his chest and shoulders. Harry watched with some amusement though didn't quite want Wayne Rivers the Auror Captain to hurt himself more.

"Gentleman, gentleman," the Auror witch stepped between them holding her hands out. Somehow the force of her personality had made her the leader in the current group. The other bureaucrats too lost to be decisive. "I think, Mr. Malfoy, that it would be a terrible choice to put Mr. Potter with you seeing as you have so recently escaped the serial killer. It is obvious that you are a target. We can't in good conscience put a child in harm's way."

"Great, then I can keep him!" Tonks cheered, reminding everyone that she was there, though it was hard to miss as her hair which had been a despondent brown went to yellow, red, and pink in quick succession.

Harry gave Lucius a desperate shake of the head behind Tonks' back. He had realized that Mortfidèle could just as easily attack her home as he had his.

"For the very same reason the boy cannot go with Miss Tonks. We know he is being, as you said, 'targeted.' The Tonks family would be in grave danger," Malfoy added.

"Do you have a police station?" Harry piped up feeling a little cheap for playing the child.

"Police?" one of the bureaucrats asked, confused.

"Muggle Aurors," Wayne Rivers explained, sitting on the stretcher he had left to call out Malfoy. "Yes, we do, boy. Why?"

"My name is Harry." He was getting tired of being called 'boy.' "I can stay at the station, I'll be safe there. I can go somewhere else in the morning?" he suggested as hesitantly as he could make himself.

The idea was taken up immediately, especially by the Ministry officials who were relieved they could put off the decision till the next day. The Aurors were happy that they would have guardianship of him for the time being. The only person unhappy was Tonks. Harry dearly wanted to go home with her. He wanted to see her mother who had become such a dear friend to him and reignite that connection. But it was that very care of them both because of which he didn't want to put them in danger.

OOO

The officials decided that Harry should be taken to the Auror department post haste. Lucius Malfoy volunteered to accompany them. The Healer and the short wizard Harry had seen the Unspeakables run to came along as well. Somehow Lucius had found a moment to be alone with Harry before they summoned the Knight bus.

"Achelous, be careful, you have enemies here. I am glad I arrived when I did, if they had succeeded in sending you to a muggle orphanage there would have been another attack," he warned quietly not letting anything show on his face for the people who were spying on them.

Harry had felt the cold calm of battle wash over him. "Who?" he had asked.

Lucius didn't want to say and had moved off quickly to intercept a few wizards who were making their way to him. Harry had easily read their body language to tell that they were exchanging threats with the Malfoy head. Some of them were looking at Lucius with confusion, maybe expecting him to aid them. _So they don't know yet that Malfoy has left them. _

After that news Harry watched his impromptu guard with a lot more suspicion. His tendency to view the Ministry as mostly fools had overridden his caution earlier. There was the Healer, the witch Auror, and the unnamed wizard who commanded the Unspeakables' respect. The last two were Lucius, his thrall, and Tonks, his friend. He felt his odds were good.

"Remarkable isn't it? Two survivors of the killing curse. Both Potters, but one from a muggle born line," The Healer commented.

"It is odd that the Hidden Hand targeted a boy with the same last name as the girl-who-lived," the witch Auror said as they all descended into the Ministry from the telephone booth elevator.

"Not so remarkable when you realize that the boy is the brother of the girl-who-lived," the short wizard whose position Harry couldn't pin down softly interjected.

There was a moment of shock on everyone's face, and Lucius played along admirably as Harry rolled his eyes to himself. They had only now figured it out. But he did note to himself to be careful around the short wizard. He was of a nondescript middle age with hair cut more in the muggle short styles than the longer cuts wizards preferred after a certain maturity of age. The rest of his manner and clothing spoke of neatness and economy of movement. If Harry had to guess he would say the short wizard was a clerk somewhere in the Ministry, unassuming and efficient. That is, if he hadn't seen the Unspeakbles defer to him. _He must be one of their own. _He gave the wizard a measuring look who smiled encouragingly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I am certain you have a sister. I suppose you didn't know you had magical family?" he asked gently.

Harry felt his behavior disarming but simply shook his head in negative not sharing more.

"Are you sure, Pym?" the Auror asked, as Tonks took Harry's hand walking off the elevator to the watch warden's desk.

The Ministry was even more impressive in the absence of crowds. Polished marble floor seemed to go on forever, an effect Harry knew the custodians prided themselves in charming on the building. Seemingly too far and high to reach the magical veil twinkled in silver letters guiding visitors to their destinations. Harry always felt calm in this part of the Ministry, having worked there so long and been part of its changing into becoming a real bastion of right under Shaklebot.

"I taught Jamie Potter for a few years and unsuccessfully tried to keep her brother from interrupting her studies. The family resemblance is unmistakable. Of course I have already confirmed it from his blood too." Pym casually waved to the watch warden who didn't ask for any of their wands.

"My blood?" Harry demanded, falling into his elder demeanor because of the surprise. For the moment he was more concerned about his blood being taken than the revelation of the wizard's connection to his aunt.

"You were injured, Mr. Potter. I asked one of Healer Gordon's assistants to hand me a swab he had used to wash your wounds. A simple divination spell used against the record we have of your sister's blood confirmed it. I am sure you are very happy," he said, holding the grill to the elevator open.

Harry noticed it wasn't just him who was riveted by Pym's explanation, but he and Malfoy were probably the only ones who were worried.

"But what was he doing in a muggle-?" The Auror began to ask but was interrupted by Pym with a shake of his head clearly telling her not to ask.

"I don't appreciate my assistants being fooled into betraying a patient's privacy, Mr. Pym," Healer Gordon objected giving that aggressive glare of his Harry had appreciated before.

"Do you know much about Demonic magicks, Healer Gordon?" Pym asked as he held his hand behind his back standing for the first time with a sense of presence. The subtle change bothered Harry and he hoped Lucius had noticed it too and was on guard.

"No, I can't say I do. It is academic mostly even for curse specialists like myself."

"What is it, Pym? Spill it," the Auror witch demanded echoing Harry's unaired sentiment.

"A demonic summoning like the one we found traces of is one of many demonic magicks in existence. One distinct feature, however, is that it needs a conduit. A 'conduit' being something or someone through which a demon or demonic energy can be brought into our world. Sometimes it is fatal to the conduit sometimes it is not. It is typically a very bad sign when the conduit isn't killed because it means the demonic energy, plague, entity, whatever shape it may take can come back through again. The blood of the conduit if it is human or animal is changed when they become essentially the gate through which demons walk," Pym finished his lecture in time with the elevator dinging to announce their arrival at the on the seventh floor.

"So you were checking if Mr. Potter was the conduit and needed to be…contained," the witch Auror asked, for the first time looking nervous and shooting Harry a none-too-surreptitious look. Pym simply nodded in answer.

"But who would so such a thing? Demonic summoning are unheard of, isn't there a curse linked to them?" The Healer demanded obviously nervous now.

"Only a fool of a wizard or witch would attempt it," Lucius answered before Pym could. The Auror, Tonks, and Pym looked surprised at his fielding the question. Oddly it was Lucius who led to the Auror offices in the broad corridor of the seventh floor. "There is not a curse linked to demonic magic as you said Healer Gordon; that is a mere old wives' tale that dissuades children too ambitious to know their limits from attempting to become powerful overnight."

The Auror scoffed as Lucius opened the double doors of the Auror offices and motioned for the rest to enter ahead of him. He resumed his lesson from the rear, "Dealing in demons comes with a price always too heavy to bear. It is without fail more costly than the gain of using that magic. It is in a sense a service for which the wizard has to pay, either in favors, loss of knowledge, possession to any degree and amount of time – it can take many forms." Lucius made an all inclusive gesture. "It is this lucky nature of the demonic why dark wizards and witches are the least likely to use it. There is not one who would let anyone have power over them. It is sadly mostly muggles who are susceptible to demonic worshipping and summoning in rituals symbolic enough that even they can find the right elements for," he finished with distaste.

"You are fairly well studied, Mr. Malfoy," Pym complimented retracting into his unassuming posture.

"I don't understand. Who was it that used it to get to this poor child?" Healer Gordon asked no one in particular missing Harry's annoyed look at being painted helpless.

"The Hidden Hand," Tonks whispered, her hand gripping Harry's just a little too tightly.

"Please that is a ghost story," Healer Gordon waved his hand in the air as if brushing away an irritating insect.

"I am afraid that Captain Wayne Rivers confirms it as do the others we were able to revive. His skill and depravity match the ghost stories," the Auror somberly reported waving off her colleagues who seemed to have been waiting for someone's return from the scene of the outbreak. "And now I will ask you gentleman to return to your affairs. Thank you for escorting Mr. Potter with me, but as you can see we have enough Aurors to handle it from here."

Healer Gordon shook Harry's hand giving his condolences and welcoming him to the magical world before heading out the doors. Lucius made a weak attempt to speak with Harry but being subject of nearly every Auror's stare in the department merely raised his cane to his forehead in a salute and followed the Healer.

"Would you like to accompany me to the Minister, Pym?" the witch asked after watching Malfoy leave.

"You will not wait for Captain Rivers?"

"The Minister has been waiting anxiously for news. He wouldn't be here at this hour of the night otherwise. Captain Rivers is badly wounded. I don't want him to exert more than he already has."

"It is important he speaks with the Minister. His and Intern Tonks' testimonies are the most important," Pym pressed. "But I will go with you. Goodnight, Mr. Potter, Miss Tonks. Try not to think of what you saw today."

Harry watched their retreating backs extremely uneasy of Pym.

"What did you teach my aunt, Mr. Pym?" he called out.

The short wizard smiled softly, "Arithmancy, Mr. Potter. I hope you have the same magical aptitude as her in the subject. I am sure we can expect great things from you."

The doors swung behind them as they left. Harry was sure that Pym was a ranked Unspeakable, especially after his talk of Demonology, but how far up he couldn't guess. Obviously the man was observant enough to have linked him Bianca even when the rest of the Ministry officials hadn't made the connection. That quality of his could prove to be a problem if Harry had to see more of him.

OOO

The Aurors had taken Tonks' attention as soon as the Senior Auror and Pym left. She had been sweet enough to tell them to wait till she settled him in one of the overnight bunkers used by the staff and promised to be back later. It gave Harry sometime to think and plan his next move.

It was a good guess that someone would now contact his Aunt or Dumbledore and try to place him back with the Potters. That would suit him perfectly. If only Pym had been part of the group of Ministry officials trying to decide what to do with him even now he could've been meeting his Aunt for the first time. He wasn't concerned about Bianca's safety that night. She would be protected much better than he was being under a blood ward using old magic. Nothing he had cast on the Dursley house could match that since he had been hampered by not doing so much obvious and heavy magic even late at night for fear of attracting the muggles' notice and in turn the Ministry's.

Tonks entered the Auror night shift quarters which though were supposed to have bunk beds were anything but. Lines of comfortable four poster beds line the walls with a faux decorative divider running the length of the room dividing the witches from the wizards. Harry had been amused to realize that Tonks had put him on witches' side.

The young witch stretched and took off her robes leaving them in a pile by the bed. Under her clothes she was wearing black boxers and a sports bra stretched to its limit. A small stud glinted at her belly button and Harry realized he was staring. Before Tonks had died in his time, the boys had often wondered if her hair changed colors down there too; right then seemed to be an excellent opportunity to find out.

"You know only boys wear boxers," he commented.

She shrugged, lifting the duvet to slip in next to him. "I didn't do laundry this week. I work out in these. Are you okay?" she asked putting an arm around him. Harry tried not to think of her smooth skin against his cheek and mock glared at her.

"I am a boy and you are a girl in her underwear in my bed."

"No, I am a girl in _my_ bed. Why? Worried people will talk?" she smirked which did wonderful things to her lips.

"I don't care, I mean, I've already made it to second base with you, can only get better from here." It was his turn to smile suggestively at her.

"When did you get to second base with me?" She was scandalized.

"Remember when you tried to kill me in your breasts because you were _so_ happy I was alive?"

"Oh." She gave a sheepish grin. "You shouldn't even be thinking of things like that, little perv."

"I can't help you're beautiful and stripped before getting in bed with me."

"Oh that's it, pervert, this is war," she declared right before jumping in the air under the covers and pouncing on him. He panicked for a moment before she started tickling him and he squealed and laughed like a little girl. Getting tickled was always a humiliating experience for him. Even as nearly a fifty year old he couldn't live with himself for being so completely undone by tickling.

Just when he was nearly breathless while appreciating a nubile and sweating young girl over him laughing raucously someone interrupted them.

"What in Merlin's name, are you doing to that child?" It was the clear and cultured voice of Narcissa Malfoy, holding a picnic basket and levitating a small trunk. She was dressed in gray satin robes with semi precious jewel embroidered on the trim. Her blond locks curled bounced on her shoulders as she swept like royalty toward them.

Tonks got off of him flushed and embarrassed. "We were just playing. _You're _not allowed in here." She sat up against the headboard secretly pulling out her wand she had slid under the pillows. Harry liked her wariness even if it wasn't warranted.

"Tut, tut, dear, cover yourself first." Narcissa flicked her wand at the robes divested by the bed sending them to Tonks. "I am here with permission from the Minister. Don't worry yourself. You must be Harry Potter, I am Narcissa Malfoy, my husband escorted you here."

"It's nice to meet you, ma'm," Harry entered the conversation watching the blond witch imperiously magic a bed close to them so she could sit on it facing the side Harry was lying on.

"I have brought food and clothes. You haven't eaten yet have you?" she continued in her aloof manner spelling the picnic basket to lay out its innards on the bed she had scooted close to them.

Harry replied no making Narcissa fix her niece with a disapproving look. "You haven't even fed the child? Or were you too busy giving the wizards peeking through the doors a show while manhandling him in your underwear?"

"I wasn't giving anyone a show. I was going to bed and we just playing. I don't care what the minister says you're not allowed here. Please leave!"

"Trust me, darling, the Aurors were stuck to the crack in the door. If I hadn't hexed the voyeurs they would still be looking. And do have better manners than you're displaying, I know your mother raised you better." Narcissa floated a steaming hot meal of meats and vegetables with gravy over them to Harry on a plate keeping up with her niece.

"You don't call me 'darling' and you don't get to talk about my mother anymore, you dumped her like the rest of your family." Tonks was getting heated and Harry wondered if he should interject but the chicken was _so _succulent and he hadn't eaten in a while.

"Maybe not," real regret colored Narcissa's words as she leaned over to tuck a napkin in Harry's collar. "How is Andromeda?"

"Why would I tell _you_?" Tonks petulantly stuck her chin out.

"Because I wish to know. Display some manners befitting a young lady at least and tell me if my sister is well," Narcissa snapped.

"She's great. She loves her life, _Dad_ is doing wonderfully too, and oh look! Me too! I am having a terribly happy time. How are you doing, Auntie?" Tonks made the word sound dirty.

Narcissa gave a catty smile that would provoke a positive reaction from any man. "What a sweet thing to call me. Thank you, Nymphadora. I heard you performed very impressively today."

"Not really, people are making it out to be bigger than it was. I didn't do much…couldn't do much." Tonks lost her good mood and wilted where she sat against the headboard.

"You stood bravely against the Hidden Hand, Nymphadora. I never had the courage to do it. I know I would be proud if you were my daughter. You really are Andromeda's child, she never knew when to stop being brave."

Harry realized that she was trying to forge a connection back with her sister through her niece.

"Um, thank you." Tonks looked nonplussed and taken aback by Narcissa's confession. "So why are you here? I mean everyone knows which side you were on so if you're here to kidnap him I'm not going to let you."

Narcissa simply floated another plate with hot food on it to Tonks and giving Harry another helping.

"If you really thought I was here to kidnap him you wouldn't be sitting so calmly. Although I am sure your wand is close by. I will tell you this once, and you can't repeat it to anyone but your own family. I am on the side of whoever can finish off the Hidden Hand. I want him ripped apart and dead so he can never touch me again. Do you understand?" her voice shook with vehemence.

Tonks nodded unconsciously imitating Narcissa's hairstyle which perturbed the older witch. Harry was content to stay out of the family spat and enjoyed the cooking, though he did think the hair didn't suit Tonks as much as it did Narcissa.

"Intern Tonks?" the Senior Auror witch called from the doorway.

"I'll be back. Don't do anything," Tonks warned Narcissa, putting on her robes and rushing out to answer the Senior Auror.

Narcissa and Harry watched the young witch leave in silence noting she hadn't forgotten the plate of piping hot food. When she was gone a change came over both of them, where they had been relaxed in their assumed roles before they didn't need to play them anymore.

"Harry, are you alright? Lucius said you were hit by the killing curse," Narcissa's cold demeanor gave way to pure concern as she brushed her cool fingers against the sunburst scar on his cheek.

"I am fine. What are you doing here?"

"You were cursed with the worst of the Unforgiveables! I had to see you were alive with my own eyes." She took his hands in hers.

Harry was at once warmed and worried by her affection. There had been a niggling doubt in his mind since he had enthralled her. He hadn't gone as deep with her as he had with Lucius. He hadn't thought he needed to. She had chosen to follow him of her own accord, and so there wasn't much in the way magically creating loyalty he had to do.

The problem he was beginning to realize was that she had _truly_ cared what happened to Harry Potter ever since she had seen him in the Dursley household. It probably didn't help that she saw his nature when he enthralled her.

As overwhelming as the secret magic hidden the Department of Mysteries could be it was also old and susceptible to subtleties. Narcissa possessing a true emotion would override any artificial devotion he tried to instill in her. His prophesied power reacted best to its true forms of which selfless love was the highest. Lily's sacrifice to save him leaving an unbeatable protection, Bianca's touch creating a spontaneous blood ward just because she wanted to save him were the best examples. He worried if Narcissa's true concern for a neglected child that she thought him to be had saved her from his darker uses of that power.

"Narcissa, I didn't tell you to come here, to bring food, clothes, and leave the safety of your house. In fact the last thing I told you to do was the go into hiding. Why did you disobey me?"

"You've given me hope, Achelous…Harry. I needed to know you were well and safe. I couldn't stand waiting to see if you hadn't come away whole knowing Mortfidèle had sent a demonic curse and then used the killing curse."

Harry brought her hands clenching his to his lips laying a small kiss on her knuckles. "I am just the same as before. You don't have to worry." It was clear that is she wanted she could disobey him, something Lucius couldn't do. "Tell me do you think Lucius feels the same way about me as you do?"

A flash of something she wanted to hide went through her eyes and Harry waited holding her hands. He was ready to use his magic to enter her again and see if she was still beholden to his will and if he dominated her reason. But already he knew that at least one of the two she had complete control over.

"My husband says you remade him in your magic…I think you changed him much more than me. He is your hand wholly and solely." She paused, unsure if she should say what was waiting on her tongue. "I am glad that I have the man back who used to show me he loved me. I am glad he isn't the dark and embittered wizard who only thought of conquest day in and day out, but he does not have his own will anymore." She looked away from him drawing her hand back.

"No, he has my will." _As should you_, he added in his mind now certain that he had enthralled Narcissa to a very small degree, perhaps only to the extent of taking away her ability to betray him.

"Yes, only your will," she softly agreed.

"That is the only way it could be for him. If you really know him you should know that. It was either that or death. Be happy that I washed away the grime covering his love of you and family."

"I am."

"You don't resent it?"

"I do, I don't, I don't know. You didn't remake me like you did him, why?"

Harry felt dumbstruck by her question for a second, not realizing she would be so insightful. "Because you cared, Narcissa. You had a saving grace. Will you betray me for what I did to Lucius?"

"I can't."She gave a rueful smile. "I have already tested my limit by trying to simply think of betraying you. Feelings of shame and fear choke me and I can't do it." She looked to him earnestly. "I have done terrible things but I can't allow myself to betray the child I met as Harry Potter. I have seen the glimpses of your life. I will not betray a child who has suffered so much so courageously."

There was silence between them as Harry weighed what he heard and she waited for his reaction with her golden head bowed in her own thoughts.

"I am old, Narcissa, older than you are now. You don't have to pity me or see me like I am kid. If that is the thing standing in your way and betraying me, it isn't enough." Harry sighed wondering exactly what the secret power had wrought in her.

"I-I know you have lived long in spirit as a Seer, but you bear the burden of battles in the future. You have given me hope for a life after all this is over, one without He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Mortfidèle, and Dumbledore. I crave your kindness, Harry. Please, I will not betray you. I vow to it."

Harry acknowledged the fact that she thought he was a seer after watching glimpses of his life when he had enthralled her. It was another cause for concern. In Lucius' case it didn't matter, he was utterly under his control, but Narcissa was different.

"If you ever and I mean _ever_ take up Voldemort's cause I will end you without hesitation. I know you still think muggle born are beneath you and undeserving of magic, but if you act on your beliefs you won't have my kindness. Do you understand?" He pointed his wand at her chest to emphasize his point. Everything she had said had convinced him that she had too much of her own will and he needed to make sure she understood her place in his circle.

"I understand." She bowed in submission once before sitting back regally as Harry slipped away his wand. "It is not even blood that matters to me, serving the Dark Lord shattered any ideas of blood's glory I had. These muggle-born come into our world every year bringing their customs and ways of outside thinking showing no respect to what they have come to. We hand them our powerful and rich legacy without a price and they don't honor it, they don't adopt our old ways.

"They study our customs and history in their classes but they don't understand it. The purebloods live the magical history and they own the traditions and ways that to the muggle born are only a two foot essay. I disgusts me."

Harry was mildly surprised. He had heard similar arguments before but not without a wand pointed at him and a maniac behind it. Somehow sitting in a bed he could take it better even if he believed most of it was contrived.

"The purebloods hoard the traditions and the ways, Narcissa. Don't tell me anyone ever makes an attempt to include the muggle born. If the legacy you're so proud of can only be found in musty old history books, what do you expect?" he provoked her, hoping he would lead her in the direction he wanted.

"Then they should make more of an effort," she retorted with feeling.

"No, I think you should. I think you should teach them." He smiled mischievously confusing Narcissa.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly as if she really didn't want to know the answer.

"I told you to convince Dumbledore you repented, right?"

"Yes, I spoke to him today to report what I had found at your home. He wants me to spy on Mortfidèle for him to pay my debt to society." She tossed her head angrily.

"Good, then the ground work is laid. You will give him the little speech you gave me about muggle born and magical legacy but you will add that you want to help the muggle born live it instead of them learning of those things in history class. Narcissa, I want you to teach at Hogwarts. I need my own people there. You will be safe from Mortfidèle and you will serve me. What do you think?" he asked happily glad something had presented to him so nicely.

"It will be easier to spy on Dumbledore if I am at Hogwarts as you wanted," she agreed. "The idea is repugnant and intelligent."

"There, there, 'Cissa. Now, after you teach the muggles how it's done and they are still disrespectful you can whine and condemn them as much as you want. Till then you can't say anything."

She sighed, defeated. "Yes, Achelous."

"Achelous? What happened to calling me 'Harry'" he wondered out loud.

"I only call you the name Lucius gave you when you command. The rest of the time you are Harry to me. You've left you greens please finish up."

Harry scowled. "I'm a grown man, Narcissa, I can damn well leave my greens if I feel like it."

"Not right now you aren't, Harry. Your body needs nourishment and strength. You are going to be a lord you must look the part," she decreed washing away Harry's irritation with her conviction. He laughed lightly and submitted to her mothering.

000

When Tonks entered Narcissa was sitting behind Harry one leg folded under a brush in her hand trying to tame his hair. Wet towels were spread on the bed with wiped grime and blood from Harry. Seeing her Narcissa gave a small smile in greeting leaving the bed and settling Harry in. She kissed his face and gathered her things after whispering something to him. Tonks wondered what the snake was hissing in his ears and resolved to tell Harry to beware of her.

She walked to her as if she was going to walk past, Tonks untied her robes pretending to ignore her aunt and getting ready for bed. She was surprised then when she felt cool fingers gently rest on her arm. She looked up at the taller woman, trying not to feel unrefined next to the graceful dark witch.

"Bella is dead. Your mother and I are the only ones who care she's gone-"

"She was a heartless bitch," Tonks interjected. Narcissa twitched as if just holding herself from slapping the girl.

"Whatever she was, she was my sister. Please ask Andromeda to bury Bella with me. The Ministry is finally releasing her body. Goodnight Nymphadora, let the boy take care of you, he is very sweet."

"Un huh," Tonks replied finding Narcissa's behavior strange and her advice odd. _Wasn't she the one supposed to take care of Harry, not the other way 'round?_

She dimmed the lights and took off her robes again crawling under the covers tiredly. "You smell fresh and clean." She smelled in the flowery fragrance.

"She couldn't believe that you have a bedroom here but no showers. The woman is impossible, she made me wash with wet towels," Harry griped, as Tonks curled her hand around his shutting her eyes.

"You're an odd kid you know." She yawned making Harry yawn too.

"As odd as you but at least you're cute," he mumbled.

"Perv."

"Tease."

"Going to kill you for that in the morning," she threatened without any real spite.

"Mhm."

"Harry, thanks for saving my life."

"Getting to second base with you was worth it."

"Perv." She chuckled wondering just where he got his confidence. He squeezed her hand once and she heard his breathing even out. She thought of the red haired woman's words and Narcissa's advice then slept off herself.

Fin


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The green carpet was peeling and worn; it was obviously a very used waiting area. Either it had started out the way it was or it had been trodden down to just a thin paste of fiber spread on the ground. The rest of the room matched the sullen green of the carpet, complimenting it nicely with its dark unidentifiable colors. Harry sat in a wooden chair contemplating his environs as if it was an omen for what was to come. Two aurors had taken station on the far wall from him, keeping the one door leading to the room between them.

The Ministry had long become a comfort zone for him. He knew where the secret passageways were, where the popular nooks and corners were to catch a snooze or a quickie, and of course which offices had the best tea and pastries. This dreary waiting room was far from all those familiar places. It was in the Department of Magical Creatures Control and Regulation. Why he had been dropped off there he had no idea.

Still he sat as serenely as he could, having developed that calm that Dumbledore exuded to the world. It was easy really; all he had to do it was fake it and copy Dumbledore. Everyone fell for the act, so did he most times. After a good night's sleep with a warm body next to him albeit too young in years for him to consider going beyond flirting he felt relaxed and rested. _Not like I am at the right age as far as she is concerned anyway, but looking never hurt. _

The two Aurors kept looking at him as if he were some strange artifact, lingering too long on the newly acquired scar on his face. Harry caught their eyes one by one in a staring contest. The witch was embarrassed enough to look away. The older wizard seemed to take it as a challenge. His eyes told he had seen and done enough to not care, and he held Harry's gaze for a painfully long time till his partner whispered to him to stop bullying children.

Harry smiled at the comment and chose to trace the dragon designs on his robes as he thought. Narcissa had been kind enough to bring him clothes in the trunk last night along with food so he didn't have to feel uncomfortable in his blood stained pajamas. Tonks had wanted to dress him, apparently not realizing that morning wood was something she'd have to reckon with. There had been a moment of awkwardness as she was on her knees in her underwear tying the front of his inner robes.

"Wow, I didn't know – oh, ah, you can do the rest," she'd blurted blushing red all the way to her deep cleavage all too exposed in the bra she had changed into. Harry had pretended he had no idea what she was talking about.

Just as he had found something interesting to think about, that is, how far Tonks' blush went, there was an ominous knock on the single door into the room. The middle aged witch walked smartly to the center of the room throwing open the door and aiming at whoever was knocking.

"What in Merlin's name?" She gasped.

"Orders, Gladys, a witness. Have to keep it in here."

"I am not staying with that thing and neither is a child, have you lost your mind?" The Auror, apparently named Gladys, stood square in the door as Harry tried to spy on more than just the conversation.

"You have back up. Come on, be a dear and give us some room, eh?" the wizard's voice seem to be a little muffled as if he was standing behind someone further back in the hallway and not at the door.

"Don't patronize me, Schafer. Is it under control?" She motioned for the other wizard to draw his wand and mouthed something to him to which he gave an incredulous look.

Seeing the caution on the two Aurors' faces Harry too slipped his hand in his pocket to curl it around his wand. A mere second later he knew why Gladys was being bitchy. Cold gripped him like a claw and the already dimmed lights shrunk in upon themselves till they were just tiny pinpricks in a blanket of gloom.

They had brought a Dementor.

* * *

Having risen to being the Grand Sorcerer of the magical world Harry truly understood the power of these creatures and why Dumbledore had reviled them as much as he had. Their power was undeniable beside the one magic of the Patronus. No amount of Occlumency or even his terrible magic could really stay the influence of their fiendish strength. They pulled at happiness, at hope as they breathed in and out from their hollow mouths leaving only despair. They had been his enemy since childhood but he had thought as he grew in power he would become immune to them. That he knew was impossible.

Two things stood against them, raw will and the presence of mind to conjure a Patronus. In the moment he could only rely on will and wait for the stupidity of the Ministry to be played out. _This wouldn't happen under Shaklebot, not under me either, imbeciles._

Gladys came to stand right next to him her wand pointed unmistakably at the source of the cold. At the edges of Harry's hearing his mother's screams started. The Dementor closed and other screams, desperate appeals, flashes of faces so innocent and so wounded began to color his vision.

"No," he gasped in a low throaty voice.

"Schafer do you have that thing under control?" The other Auror joined Gladys on Harry's other side bravely taking off his cloak to cover Harry who had started shivering.

"Standard obedience spellwork, my Auror colleagues. Nothing to worry about."

Harry could only see the man as a shroud next to the immensely fat Dementor that had just walked in standing to one side of the door breathing in its hideous way.

"Merlin, is that a normal Dementor?" the wizard to Harry's left asked looking considerably pale. Harry didn't give much of a damn; he was busy trying to keep the memories and emotions at the very edges of his consciousness.

"He is soul fat. This one sucked most of the souls in the Azkaban massacre. That's why it's here, going to try and question him," Schafer provided as he shut the door behind him.

The room was blanketed in the Dementor's aura. The two candle stands in the room gave off no more light and even the lumos spells of the Aurors seem to be wavering.

_"My psionic tendrils detect delectably joyful memories. Yes, writhing ecstasy! This witch has attempted procreation ceaselessly. It must be because of her overdeveloped mammaries she attracted so many males. Note to self: test sucking her soul right out of her breast meat. So much to eat. Oh! Yum. "_ The voice was toneless, flat, and yet the quickened creaky breathing of the creature told Harry it was excited.

"What the bloody Hell?" Harry felt as if he had just broken the surface of water that was drowning him as the Dementor's attention turned to Gladys. He looked to the witch slumping against the wall, barely vertical, and made note she was fairly top heavy. The Dementor turned its considerable corpulence toward the Auror but stayed where it had been floating.

"Schafer get the guard to stop attacking Gladys!" the male Auror shouted not hiding the edge of hysteria. His eyes had given it away earlier, he had seen too much, which meant his burden when faced with a Dementor was that much greater.

_"Yum yum. I could bend and spit roast you all by myself. Such vigorous happy memories! I will feed well, she might even satiate me. If only I could see I would only pick the breasty females, they have the best memories; so much sex. Ah, she does do a lap dance with prodigious abandon,_" the Dementor continued in his almost analytical tone interspersed by its heavy cold breathing.

Harry watched, sickened, as the Dementor made an unmistakable thrusting motion.

"What the devil is it heaving about? Its saying something, translate!" The Auror on Harry's left pointed his wand at the hooded Schafer.

"I have no idea. It's not the standard responses."

"_What's wrong with you?_" Harry asked feeling the usual affects of the dark creature lessened, only realizing after he has spoken that it came out in the creaky breathy way the fiends' talked.

"_She has sizzling memories that move the souls in my belly. So many happy memories to eat. Do you know when she bends over she looks just like a heifer with her udders swollen with milk? Greetings wizard, I am Todd._"

"Don't…mimic… it…will…attack." Gladys clasped Harry's wrist in a painful grip. He noticed the wizard named Schafer frantically trying to command the fat Dementor who was floating in a lumbering way toward him. The weakened Auror to his left tried valiantly to conjure a patronus but it sputtered like a bulb and his wand tip was snuffed out by the creature's aura.

Fat Todd sat next to Harry on one of the uncomfortable chairs. _"This one doesn't have many happy memories. He's almost dry. But the witch coupled with many men and witches. She has so many delicious memories. If I could only see I would suck only women with massive udders. It is my experience they are the happiest, they mesmerize so many mates. I can suck on her for days. If I could show you the way her hips roll."_

_"That's it Fat Todd, I've heard enough. Let her go, suck on Schafer."_ Harry tried to pry Gladys off his wrist trying not to think of her 'udders.'  
_  
"I have been with this pruned automaton for two hours there is nothing in there worth taking. He works for wizard powers and that is all. Not a single memory of a witch pleasuring him anywhere. But the woman is divine. She has a memory, wizard, of two other women with her. She calls it a 'titty sixty-nine,' have you heard of it before? It makes her very happy, such flavorful victuals for my feeding. Tell me where I can find more practitioners of this sixty-nine udder ritual?"_ it asked lasciviously nudging Harry in a buddy way.

_"You're a perverted freak. Is that all you do, look at people's memories of having sex?"_

_"It seems to make your kind happy and I have gained an appreciation for it after sucking your souls and stealing your happiness for two centuries. I cannot relate why plunging a fleshy dagger into another flesh wound is pleasurable but I feel the ecstasy and it is an incredible rush. You were a disappointment; that pink haired witch with beautiful untouched skin, sweating, and attacking you in a mating ritual-"_

_"She was tickle wrestling me it wasn't a mating a ritual!"_

_"I have been devouring souls for two hundred years, I know rituals, wizard, what you and the lovely legged creature were doing would have left you effusing your essences while intertwined in each other's-"_

_"Not one more word, Fat Todd, I swear I'll do you an injury."_

_"You injure me with your lack of commitment to the male imperative. She was on her knees in front of you, her neckline gorgeously smooth and demanding for the joining rituals and you stood there. You make terrible food, wizard, I am disappointed. The only thing I ask is that you pin her to the floor like many of your forefathers have done in their time and sow the seed creating memories of such joy, happiness, and pleasure that I can suck from your souls."  
_  
"Is he saying something? How did you get it to stop attacking me?" Gladys interrupted their conversation just as Harry was giving the fat Dementor an appalled look.

"I got him to talk about your sexual exploits. Sometime you had a triple sixty-nine." Harry absently brushed her off still reeling from getting a telling to from a Dementor about his sexual life.

_"Oh Gladys of hefty udders you give me a smorgasbord of delightful memories. Ask her if she has a sister, I must suck her too."_ The Dementor elbowed Harry in a nudge again.

_"Fat Todd, you disturb me only in the way hairless cats do."_ Harry flattened himself in the far corner of the chair trying to get away from the fiend.

Just then there was a commotion in the darkness, the sound of the door being slammed open and loud incantations announced a falcon and an emu patronus streaming into the room.

* * *

He drummed his fingers on the armrest and then realized it was too relaxed a gesture. He changed his posture enough to look like a frightened but curious child; something that might be expected of him. Everyone was either glowering at someone else in the room or carefully avoiding eye contact. Except Fat Todd who was complaining about the over exposure to the avatar of positive emotions that a Patronus was. Harry drew another interesting insight from the obese and perverted Dementor's bellyaching: the Patronus was evidently a disgustingly intolerable sugar high for the fiends, being that they were the consumers of happy emotions.

_So all this time I have been giving Dementor's indigestion with my Patronus. Gee, Dad would love that_. Bringing his mind back to his current situation Harry noted that the Ministry officials bristling, not only because of their prodigious whiskers and beards, were about to lend word to their so far silent ire at the near disaster in the waiting room.

The room, a vast hall resembling something of a court room with its magical beast sized witness stands, was filled with the two Aurors who had accompanied him, the hooded Dementor-wrangler Schafer, a contingent of Aurors who had rushed to save them from Fat Todd, the cause of the disruption Fat Todd himself, and a bench full of Ministry brass. It was the bench jockeys who were glaring at the Aurors and Schafer.

"You misunderstood your orders, Schafer. Your irresponsibility could have landed you on charges of murder of a magical phenomenon by negligence as detailed in Article 32, sub-article 4Q, 2/7 addendum!" One of the three identical whiskery and bearded wizards broke the tense silence.

"That's a real law?" Harry spoke out of place not knowing if being classified as a magical phenomenon was in his favor or not.

"Quiet, child. Schafer you will have a disciplinary meeting with us after this interview. Try to control the Dementor till then, and will you make it shut up!" The second triplet struck the table with the flat of his wand.

It seemed to Harry the hairy triplets only spoke if they were going to shout or not at all. Although, he _did_ agree with the man. Fat Todd was getting over his sugar high and beginning to list the extracurricular activities of the gentlemen at the bench which Harry did not want to know of. It would be best for all of them if he kept his silence. Schafer used some of the command spells that Harry himself had used a few weeks before to quiet the obese dark creature. Idly Harry wondered how he was able to communicate with Fat Todd but dismissed it as some left over magic from when he had broken into Azkaban and been exposed too long to the creatures.

"Let's get down to business," a new voice entered and Harry turned in his seat to see Pym the unassuming wizard from the night before and a tottering warlock enter. Pym had a pensieve under his arm and carried it with none the care a priceless magical artifact should be treated.

Harry resisted betraying his suspicion at the sight of Pym and the Pensieve, holding the curious child face. The triplets greeted the two newcomers with grunts of acknowledgment.

"Thank you, I am sure we all appreciate your department hosting this, uh, conversation." The doddering man behind Pym nodded to everyone in the room and smiled. Harry recognized the wizard as the unofficial head of Obliviators from his time in the Ministry.

The Obliviator was a minor legend in the Ministry for his skill with the charm. Many avoided his company because the old warlock relieved boredom at times by erasing just a harmless thing here and there to land his victims in embarrassing situations. Harry had many times shared in the merriment in someone else's misfortune at the Obliviator's hands. As a man he was decent enough, even if his practical jokes were rather invasive he still reversed the charm after he'd had his laugh, but that didn't mean that he was not dangerous. His presence there did not make Harry happy and he became even warier than when he had spotted Pym. Old Weatherhead was not anyone's fool.

"You must be Mr. Potter, our newest little puzzle. Pleasure to meet you." Weatherhead smiled kindly and took Harry's hand in a shake not trying to hide the tremor running through his liver spotted hands.

Harry tried not to grimace at the sensation of loose skin trembling in his hand and tried to see the trap if there was one in Weatherhead's introduction. Just to be safe he kept his eyes just a little off-center from the veteran Obliviator's.

"So Mr. Potter what can you tell me about your dreams of a black tower," Weatherhead announced as he took a proffered chair from a young Auror.

"I don't have any." Harry felt the hunt had begun and wondered if he was up to fooling Weatherhead's wits.

"Have you ever gotten into a fight?" Pym looked at Harry with a gentle expression.

"Sure, everyone does." Harry shrugged trying to figure out their strategy.

"What did the Dementor tell you about Auror Gladys'…private life?" One of the whiskered triplets who had started out calmly ended in an exclamation evidently unable to help the predilection for shouting he shared with his identical siblings.

"I protest! The boy was joking. You can't ask questions like that." Auror Gladys stomped up from where she had been weakly standing against the wall, pale from her encounter with Fat Todd and very busty as usual.

"He can talk to the Dementor, can't you?" Gladys' partner shot her and Harry a look.

"That's just stupid!" Gladys seemed to be sweating.

"I was copying it. Trying to make noises like it. Everyone was so afraid I thought I'd crack a joke. I mean how would I know anything about the lady?" Harry decided to answer the question finding an easy way to get out of the Ministry's scrutiny of the matter.

"That was very irresponsible." The third triplet frowned making his moustache brush out like a porcupine.

"I'm sorry." Harry ducked his head.

There was movement around him and he felt someone kneel by him. He looked to find it was Pym pulling something from his pocket. Harry tensed as he saw a prophecy ball in the wizard's hands. Pym was keeping it close and at an angle so that only Harry and he could see what he was holding.

"When did you see something like it before, Mr. Potter?" His manner was as unassuming and kind as always. Pym's eyes gave away nothing but Harry knew there was a shrewd mind behind them.

"I've never seen anything like this, sir." Harry too could play that game but his mind was churning as he made quick connections.

"Have you woken up ever and not known where you were? Been wearing clothes you didn't know you had put on? Found things in your room not belonging to you? Feeling dizzy or sleepy even after a good night's sleep?" Weatherhead questioned as Pym returned to his seat.  
_  
Ah! They're checking to see if I have been possessed. They think I could have been used to steal the prophecy._ "No, sir."

Pym and Weatherhead exchanged a look then went back to studying Harry.

"In the fights you've had recently, did someone scratch you with nails? Enough to draw blood," Pym asked.

Harry felt the word 'no' die on his tongue as his stomach fell. _Bellatrix!_ He cursed. His hand twitched to rub the back of his neck where she had clawed him in Azkaban. He'd taken too long to answer. "I can't remember, maybe." He shrugged trying not to reveal his thoughts.

_That's where Dumbledore found my blood, that's why he sent Narcissa to spy on me. After last night the Ministry must have been able to trace my blood too which they didn't have before. Damn it all to Hell!  
_  
Pym and Weatherhead frowned and the former nodded to the Obliviator.

"Now don't worry young man and just relax. I am going to check to see if any bad things have stayed on you from yesterday. It won't even tickle." Weatherhead smiled and pulled out his wand.

Harry tensed but knew he couldn't react for fear of giving away everything. Weatherhead cast silently and Harry recognized the wand movements of the spell he used for an enchantment that revealed any Obliviation charms that had been used. If necessary the same spell could be used to break a charm.

It was tempting to employ any number of the intuitive and unnamed mind magic that he knew to resist or attack the old warlock but he didn't. He knew full well that it would be more incriminating if he performed magic than letting Weatherhead find that he had never been obliviated. _Unless I was obliviated at sometime._ It was a sobering thought and he became anxious to know what Weatherhead found.

"Good news, young man, you are tip top." Weatherhead smiled again and Harry began to get tired of its artificial quality. Pym betrayed his unhappiness at Weatherhead's finding by just the barest of frowns.

"Harry, if you could, I want you to think of what happened at your home last night. Now I know it is difficult, and I am sorry. But we need to know to catch the evil wizard who attacked you. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded affecting a fearful face and demeanor.

"Good. I want you to think of last night then put this wand to your head and just imagine pushing your memories to the wand and pull it away. Alright?" Pym offered Harry a wand from the inside of his robe.

"What will it do?" Harry tried to buy time. _I can't let them see me doing magic._

"Well when you put it in this bowl we'll all see what happened."

"No, I can't. It's…they're dead. I can't!" Harry shouted making his lip tremble and hoping he looked panicked and distraught enough. From the corner of his eye he saw Fat Todd and an idea struck him. Painful as it was he brought memories of his honeymoon to the forefront of his mind and felt his face flush. Fat Todd moved as if he had been electrocuted off the wall making a bee line for Harry.

A chill gripped him flowing under his skin and Harry's memories flashed to ones of loss and tragedy. He didn't resist the influence wanting Fat Todd to get close to him to disrupt the interrogation. He fell to his knees hearing a commotion. Fat Toddy's chubby and rotting finger curled around his shoulder sending needle sharp point of ice through him which he knew weren't real.

Shouts, noise, loud incantations, a burst of light, then another; and suddenly he was being picked up bodily. He looked blearily to find Fat Toddy once again pinned to a corner of the room. Gladys pushed a piece of chocolate in his mouth and he realized it was the top heavy Auror who was carrying him.

"Ask it if Harry Potter was the one at Azkaban, ask it." Pym pointed his finger at Fat Todd speaking to Schafer calmly. Pym was disheveled, his hair and robes in disarray, much like everyone who was close to Harry.

Harry heard Schaefer ask Fat Todd if it recognized Harry from the massacre. The others in the room besides Weatherhead were staring at Pym in bewilderment. Fat Todd turned its hooded head to Harry, staring blindly for a drawn out moment and answered in the negative in the command words the wizards used to speak to Dementors.

"You fed me souls, young wizard, I will not betray you. I much appreciate the snack you just gave me, I was starving. I regret these insensitive troglodytes interfered. I apologize." Fat Todd gave a human shrug and floated to his corner.

Harry dared not answer or show any expression.

"How did his blood end up in Azkaban? How did someone steal the prophecy without triggering the curses? If it wasn't him or his sister, it must be the Dark Lord." Pym wiped his face. "Obliviate them."

Anyone with wits left after the sudden Dementor attack drew their wands but they were not nearly quick enough for Weatherhead. The warlock made such fast and precise wand motions that he had the entirety of the room charmed to forget Pym's sudden outburst in mere seconds. All except Harry who was prepared for something like that; he had employed those spells that he knew to guard the mind and was saved.

In another flurry of movements where the bearded triplets berated Schafer for letting the Dementor out of control again Harry was taken out of the room and escorted away.

* * *

The Aurors brought him back to their resting area in their department and Harry found Narcissa waiting for him on the bed he had slept with Tonks in. The Aurors were bustling about excitedly, making Harry shoot Narcissa an enquiring look.

"It seems, Mr. Potter, that the Minister has invited your sister to be trained by the very capable Auror department. She is in their training area now. Would you like to change and meet her? I brought something for breakfast too."

"Should you be here, Mrs. Malfoy?" one Auror escorting Harry frowned at the blond witch even as she was laying out a cloth and putting food on it.

"It's been cleared with the Minister. Let's go see the girl-who-lived. I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy will bring him down when he is ready." Auror Gladys answered tiredly before Narcissa could say anything. The dark witch simply inclined her head in a stately manner and by the way she held herself made it clear she was waiting for them to go.

The Aurors took their leave joining in the excitement of their colleagues all seeming to go one way. Harry fell on a bed breathing deeply. The morning had been very tense and he was worried to know they had found evidence of his presence at Azkaban. Time was running out.

"Achelous, are you well?" Narcissa came around the bed.

"Yes."

"You don't look it."

"Why are you here, Narcissa?"

"To obliviate you," she said evenly.

Harry arched a brow and gave her a wry smile. "Not you too."

She smoothed her pale rose robes as she sat on the edge of the bed, her curled nearly white blond hair streamed over her shoulder as she turned to look at him. The expression in her gray eyes was very serious.

"Dumbledore wants me to erase memories of your meeting with Jamie Potter. I think he expects you will be meeting the real her soon and doesn't want any confusion." Then she tapped his nose and said, "Obliviate, there you don't remember anything do you?"

Harry smiled. "You're playful today even if you don't look it."

"It amuses me more when people don't know if I am joking or not. So please when you see your perfect aunt act surprised, Dumbledore will be watching. Although it might be sometime before that happens. It seems she was attacked by heliopaths."

"What?" Harry got up from the bed smelling the heavenly scent coming from breakfast his thrall had brought.

"Severus was apoplectic and it pronounced his typical acerbic nature. I wonder sometimes how he hasn't died of ulcers. I couldn't get much out of him other than that." She had a faint smile on her face as she drug out another outfit for Harry, seeing how the one had been wearing had become a little ruffled in the morning's activities.

"Having a good day?" Harry asked wondering about the woman's mood.

"Yes, I have always wanted to move to the house in," she caught herself, "move to our retreat. It's a beautiful place. Besides seeing Severus burned and sputtering in persecuted madness is delightful." She vanished the plates of breakfast Harry had already finished.

"You're wicked." Harry approved.

"He's vile and takes uncommon pleasure in giving me my marching orders from Dumbledore."

"People have wanted him dead for less. I understand, and I think I enjoy seeing you happy. It brings out a pleasant vindictiveness in you." Harry gave her a light smile which she returned with a sultry one of her own.

"Take off your outer robes. I think you should be dressed to make an impression. Don't you think it will be heart wrenchingly adorable if the brother and sister were reunited in front of the international magical press? It might make it difficult for certain parties from keeping you separated."

A pleased grin came over Harry and he looked to Narcissa in admiration. "Conniving witch; taking advantage of such a sweet moment."

Narcissa feigned a curtsey and draped the robe she had picked for him over his shoulders expertly tying it off. Thinking if it all went well he would be going home with his sister Harry decided to give Narcissa instructions for her husband. After all he did not know how easily he would be able to get around once under the watchful eyes of Dumbledore's group. As she walked him to the Auror training room he detailed what he wanted done.

A roar of applause hit him as he turned the corner to the corridor leading to the dueling platform. Despite himself he felt a little excited at seeing how Bianca was doing. If the crowd's noise was anything to go by she was giving a show. He had been truly concerned for her besides. _All I can do here is take care of her, only family I can hope to do right by._

* * *

Narcissa took her leave at the doors and Harry entered the gallery level of the training area. A great square wooden platform was raised half a foot in the air measuring forty yards in either direction. The wood was polished to a shine. The hall was adorned in tapestries showing great battles and old magical war weapons were displayed here and there tastefully. A veritable mob of witches and wizards surrounded the platform and ringed the gallery giving a bird's eye view of the action going on.

For a moment Harry was taken aback by the sheer size and sense of militancy of the place but soon his eyes were drawn to little girl spinning to avoid a curse in the middle of the platform and letting off two curving hexes of her own to punish the auror she was up against. Another roar of cheers and jeers went up as the Auror was struck down by the second hex. Cameras flashed sending smoke up in the air as two Aurors joined Bianca on stage. One went to his sister and seemed to be teaching her a spell or a tactic as the other Auror readied himself.

Harry frowned as he descended the steps from the gallery to platform-side and saw bandages on Bianca. She had her hair pulled back in a pony tail like before and wearing tight maroon robes that wouldn't get caught in her feet. _What happened to her? _

Using his small size to his advantage he weaved his way through the pressing bodies to get next to the platform. Bianca was favoring her right leg and when the sleeves of her robes fell back he saw more bandages. His frown deepened as he saw the Auror exchange about fourth year level hexes and shields with her. _She's already shown a higher level skill, what are they playing at?_

"Achelous," a soft voice spoke next to him. Harry looked to find Lucius standing a little behind and to his left. The wizard kept his eyes on the match and gave no indication he was speaking to Harry. "Seems the Minister moved fast to curry good press after the news of the boy-who-lived made it to all the papers today," Lucius continued but spoke to a wizard next to him who agreed.

Harry smiled at Lucius' discrete way of giving him information without seeming to. He kept one ear to his thrall and his eyes on the increasing powered spells being hurled at Bianca's shield. Even from where he was standing he could see the sweat marring her brow in the camera flashes going off in staccato bursts. He was impressed she could keep her focus with that many lights bursting around her.

"Prophet's reporters are all over looking for her brother, you know. They'll find him and this little display will go to second page. Wonder where Ludo is hiding the boy. I hear rumors, Lucius, that the girl-who-lived doesn't even know of his existence. You wouldn't happen to know something would you?" The wizard next to Lucius solicited.

"I hear much what you hear. Dumbledore is up to something." Lucius layered his words with meaning.

The man harrumphed and Harry took his attention from Bianca. "They're saying the boy is Dumbledore's ace in the sleeve. I think he's got one more hero to hoist on us. Convenient, if anything ever happens to her, he'll have another to take her place."

"Why? If I didn't know better I'd say, Greengrass, that you're suggesting something is going to happen to the girl-who-lived," Lucius silkily suggested.

"Well you don't know any better, do you? And for that matter neither do I."

Lucius simply hummed in answer but Harry could feel his thrall tensing. He didn't like Greengrass' words and stepped forward a little more to look at Bianca intently. The simple hex-shield exercise had moved onto a duel. The Auror was holding back and playing the crowd. Bianca had a grimace of suppressed pain on her face as she favored her right leg even more. The Auror, a young and handsome sandy haired wizard bowed to the crowd as he 'tricked' Bianca with a feign and passed a stinging hex through her defenses.

Harry could tell that Binaca had allowed herself to be hit on the arm and seethed inside at the Auror for trying to compete with a child. _Probably wants to brag that he went up against the girl-who-lived._ He saw a look pass through Bianca's eyes and he knew she had come to a quick decision. She looked to her side to a witch standing across the platform from Harry. As far as she was the page boy blond cut made Harry fairly certain that it was Jamie Potter. The witch nodded and Bianca grinned looking back to the Auror who was standing in an arrogantly open stance.

Bianca raised her wand in the air pointing it to the ceiling and shouted an incantation. Her wand tip exploded in light painting everything an agonizing white. Harry had shut his eyes and turned away recognizing the spell as soon as she worded it. There was a girlish scream the sound of someone falling as he heard Bianca cast jinxes loudly.

A cheer went up as the light faded. The young Auror was lying on the platform naked save a pamper and a bib with an angry red rash covering him. Bianca held his wand and bowed in exaggerated mockery of the way the sandy haired wizard had been. The crowd laughed and cheered. Harry smiled, pleased at how she had humiliated the Auror, but was concerned about her leg and slowed movement. An Auror stepped to the platform holding his hands up to quiet the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems that young Miss Potter is quite a handful and we have been underestimating her. We should have remembered that she has been under the tutelage of her very skilled aunt. If it is alright with the young lady I would like to test her true limits so we at the Auror College can take her beyond what she knows and make her one of the true great witches of our time."

Bianca looked like she wanted to refuse but Jamie Potter jumped on stage and gave a very firm nod. The little girl squared her shoulders but looked pale to Harry. Four junior Aurors climbed the platform as it was explained that at every fifteen second mark an Auror would join the duel against Bianca.

"Interesting. I would never have thought you to be so bold, Greengrass. Risky don't you think?" Lucius spoke up again brushing his cane against Harry's back.

"The Dark Lord moves, Lucius. He is punishing all who forgot him. This is my declaration of fealty to him. You will let him know, of course."

Harry felt his heart race at what he heard and slipped his hand over his wand watching the crowd and the gallery for danger.

"And what makes you so certain I will play messenger boy for you?" More than a hint of viciousness entered Lucius' voice. "You are overreaching and I will watch you burn for your stupidity soon enough. Good bye, Greengrass." Lucius moved so he could catch Harry's eyes with a look of warning.

"I won't forget this, Malfoy. I will crush you when I rise in his circle." Greengrass shoved Harry aside and grabbed Malfoy's arm. He was not quick to notice Malfoy's wand pressed in his gut until the blond wizard pointed it out to him.

"You don't have enough power for this. I see your sons standing suspiciously close to those young Aurors. Didn't think I would notice who is controlling their minds, hmm? I will bleed your children in front of you, Greengrass, if you threaten me again, and you know which one of us have never reneged on his word." Lucius ripped his arm free and disappeared in the crowd leaving a chalk white Greengrass behind.

The crowd cheered and Harry looked around the dark wizard to see the duel had begun. Greengrass became suddenly still next to him, muttering words under his breath and watching the junior Auror exchanging spells with Bianca. There was a marked aggressiveness in the Auror. Harry figured Greengrass had him under the imperius. There were too many people around him to outright take out the man but there were other ways. Not all curses required a wand pointed as long as one had line of sight. Severus Snape and Quirrel had taught him that in his first year.

He stood behind Greengrass' slightly stooped form bringing his hands together in a clasp that to a muggle might look like he was praying. He whispered the curse of choice under his breath and saw Greengrass waver. He narrowed his eyes and kept repeating the curse. The wizard's hand went to his throat and began choking. No one noticed as Greengrass crushed his own windpipe; they were too involved in the duel. Harry quickly stepped in the space between people behind him to leave the scene of the crime.

On the platform the first Auror stumbled as he came to himself and Bianca bound him in ropes but paid for it when a hex hit her in the back from the second Auror entering the duel. A slash of pulsing yellow appeared on her as she let out a small grunt. Harry saw the other Aurors and Ministry officials look worried for the first time.

_They finally notice._ He tried to look for Lucius but was too short to see over the witches and wizards. He hoped his thrall had taken the initiative to take out Greengrass' sons. Harry searched people around the raised platform for someone who looked like the dark wizard he had just killed but there were just too many.

He rushed to a magical weapon display watching the platform over his shoulder. Bianca fell on the leg she was favoring trying to avoid a cutting hex that followed an elemental curse she had blocked with a shield. On the ground she shielded herself again but there were three junior Aurors going for her and she was hexed twice finding one arm twisted and magically bound to her back while a new wound on her leg bled.

The crowd had gone from elated to afraid. The senior Auror who was acting as the announcer entered the platform to put a stop to it but someone from the audience cursed him and he fell. Others tried to surge forward but weren't quick enough. It was Bianca herself who sent a bone shattering curse at one Auror's chest making him crumple to the ground leaving herself open for an attack from the other two.

In the confusion no one paid attention to the side of the platform Harry was on right behind the press cameramen. He jumped on the platform even as he saw others enter the fray. There were screams and a stampede of people trying to get out as others started cursing randomly creating more chaos. _Just how many sons did Greengrass have?_

Bulbs flashed and smoke went up hiding Harry and the cudgel he was wielding. He swung the long leather strapped handle hitting the imperiod Auror in the spine with the bulbous head of the cudgel. The weapon picked up speed magically and hit with many times the force Harry was capable of. The witch's back caved in and she went down with a scream.

Bianca was rolling on the ground trying to get away from the last imperiod Auror but the situation had gotten worse as people from the audience started attacking her too. The Aurors didn't know who was enemy and who was friend. Someone sent up the dark mark and a terrified hush fell in the hall.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" a voice cried in the dead silence but Harry was there before Bianca met the curse on her frightened face. He jumped on her wrenching her off the floor with all his strength a heart beat before the floor shattered from the killing curse.

Harry came to his feet holding the magical cudgel in a two handed grip over Bianca facing the wizard who had tried to kill her. He didn't recognize him as any death eater he knew. Before the man could curse again blood spurted in a fountain from his shoulder as his entire arm was ripped away by a curse. He fell screaming horribly and pushing himself on the ground. Blood covered Harry as he saw Jamie Potter standing where the wizard had been her face a picture of fury.

"Bianca!" she shouted in the still quiet hall.

"I'm okay," she yelled back even though they were separated by ten feet and Harry standing with an oversized weapon.

"NO!" A witch screamed rushing the platform getting hexed and cursed on the way. She brought her wand down in a slashing motion.

"Down!" Harry shouted swinging the cudgel. Jamie Potter ducked as the weapon went flying over her and into the witch behind her. Harry had recognized her as a nameless Death Eater and felt no guilt as the dumpy woman keeled over with her bones crushed no doubt.

Noise picked up as if someone switched it on. Harry stood guard over Bianca as he took in the Aurors and other Ministry officials binding wizards and witches. He noticed Lucius levitating four wizards to the Aurors resembling Greengrass. _Ah so that's why the commotion ended, Lucius came through. But this was too big for just them, there were others in on this.  
_  
Bianca grabbed his robes and trying to pull herself up. Harry bent and picked her up under her arms so that he was hugging her when she was on her feet. She whimpered as he accidentally brushed against her wounds.

"Sorry. You're safe now." He brushed the girl's hair which had fallen out of the ponytail. "We should get out of here." He looked to Jamie Potter who was standing next to them, her wand out and eyes roving around for any threat.

"Follow me," she ordered in a tight voice. Harry felt she was a bit cold; she had hardly looked at him.

"Harry, how did you-?"

" Shh, later. Let me carry you," Harry interrupted Bianca before she revealed they knew each other and picked her up ignoring her protest.

Harry pulled up the cudgel with one hand giving it to Bianca to hold pretending he didn't hear the squelching noise that came from the dying Death Eater's body as it released the weapon. Jamie Potter kept up a brisk pace and jumped off the platform yelling at people to get out of her way.

What had been a scared mob a moment ago had become curious onlookers at the dead and cursed. Their faces looked ugly to Harry and he wanted nothing but to get away from them. Cameras flashed all around them and inwardly Harry groaned just imagining what the Prophet would be saying the next day. He had killed at least one person in front of everyone; that would make a pretty story. He hoped that he hadn't maimed the imperiod Auror permanently.

A small hand reached for his face brushing the blood on it from the man Jamie Potter had amputated. Harry looked down to Bianca, struck by how much the lines of her face looked like his daughter Lily Luna. Her hazel eyes were pained.

"I'm sorry. If I didn't come to see you, you wouldn't have been attacked. I messed everything up. Are you okay?" she asked pitifully.

Harry couldn't help but snort in repressed laughter. "Shut up, Bianca. I'm the one carrying your butt, you don't get to ask if I'm okay."

"Well are you?"

"Peacy keen. Listen, love, do you really want _someone_ to hear you and figure out you snuck out to see me?" Harry looked pointedly ahead where Jamie Potter was bullying her way through Aurors.

"Darn it," she cursed softly making Harry smile. He watched as Jamie Potter threatened a couple of senior Aurors to stand out of her way or she was going to slice right through them. Having seen her scythe curse that threat carried a lot of weight.

Soon Harry found it was nearly impossible to leave the Ministry. As nasty as his aunt was being to the officials she wasn't getting her way. The Aurors and other law keeping departments had closed off floo access and declared that anyone apparating away would automatically be a suspect. It was because of this that Harry was back in the hospital wing of the Auror department waiting with Nymphadora Tonks who was taking her guard duty very seriously.

Bianca was in a bed curtained off for privacy. Jamie Potter was in there with her as she was healed. Once the initial panic had worn off the witch had tried to create as much distance between Harry and Bianca as possible. First she took her sister from him and then told him to 'sit quietly in the chair,' as if he were some misbehaving child. It had been hours and she didn't let him see Bianca.

He shut his eyes trying for the umpteenth time to rest. Word had gotten around that the Greengrass family was behind the attack. The fact that there was a Death Eater besides them there and the number of random attacks in the crowd pointed to more people working with them. _Apparently there are more Death Eaters here than I know of. Who knew Greengrass of all people was one._ In his world Daphne Greengrass was the only Slytherin in the pureblood family that made a habit to marry powerful muggleborn in some attempt to add skills and strength to their bloodline. An ideology that didn't endear them to Voldemort.

Slowly his mind drifted until he was asleep. He didn't notice Tonks folding a cloak to make a pillow for him and settle him on the waiting area couch. It wasn't until much later he awoke to an unpleasant surprise.

* * *

"Excuse me, my boy." A hand shook him. Harry opened his eyes blearily seeing a wizard in resplendent orange robes. He leaned away from the hand and sat up. He rubbed his eyes thinking he was seeing things. But even wide awake the wizard in front of him was a very young looking Albus Dumbledore. Young relative to how he knew him in his world. This Albus Dumbledore still dressed in vibrant colors that he expected of him, had a beard and head of hair the color of deep auburn. Instead of wrinkles around his eyes the skin was smooth and the ever present half moon glasses were absent. It was as if he was looking at Albus Dumbledore over fifty or more years younger than he knew him.

"Hello?" Harry greeted wondering what new spin the alternate world had caught him in. He saw past the man and noticed Bianca's bed was empty, Jamie Potter was not in sight either. He jumped to his feet looking for them.

"I sent them away, Mr. Potter. Don't worry they are both well."

"Why?" Harry asked before he could think. He thought he was going to be going with them. Why had he been left behind?

"Why? Well I am sure it's obvious to you that the young lady was in danger. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the school that you just received an invitation from. I am sorry it reached you in such terrible circumstances."

"Where is my sister?" Harry was in no mood for the unwrinkled and un-bespectacled version of Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, so you know of your relation to her. Again I am sorry for the way you must have found out. How _did_ you know?"

"Mr. Pym told me. You didn't answer my question."

"I didn't, did I?" Dumbledore affected his slightly absentminded demeanor which Harry knew to be a façade. "She is safe and protected. I have some questions for you. Can you tell me if you've ever noticed that you could do something unexplainable?"

"I want to see my sister. Why didn't you send me with her?"

The Auburn haired wizard frowned betraying his impatience with Harry's stubbornness. There was silence in the healing ward and suddenly Harry was very uncomfortable realizing there was no one in the drafty hall.

"I believe, Mr. Potter, that you are being used against your sister. It is for this reason I will keep you two separate. Your maternal aunt, cousin, and uncle are dead because they were in the same place as you. If you care for you sister you will stay away from her. I promise that once you come to Hogwarts you can meet her and be with her as it is a very secure place for all. Till then it is not safe. You don't want what happened to your other relatives to happen to your sister and paternal aunt do you?"

If Harry had been younger he would have believed the man to be kind and wise. As it was his blood boiled at how the wizard was trying to manipulate him. "I can be safe where you're keeping her safe too."

"No, Harry, not if there is something inside you that is attracting all the wrong attention. Trust me, I only mean the best for you." Dumbledore leaned on his knees in an earnest expression. The relative youth on his face disturbed Harry. He wondered if Dumbledore had been born much later in this world or if he was using some magic to keep himself appearing young.

"Mr. Pym already checked me, there's nothing inside me. It isn't my fault they died. Maybe if you kept me safe like my sister it wouldn't have happened. Why didn't anyone tell me I had a family other than them?" Harry watched Dumbledore's face for a betraying expression but the man's face was cold and distant, his eyes flat.

"I will take you to your sister and aunt if you answer one question to my satisfaction." Dumbledore ignored Harry's accusations.

"What?"

"Why was your blood found in the most secure and dangerous prison on Earth?"

Harry's mouth dried. "I don't know."

Dumbledore sighed. "Then I can't trust you yet, Mr. Potter. Your sister is very important to all of us. You will see her in Hogwarts. Good day."

Harry thought of any number of things he could say but couldn't figure on one that wouldn't convince Dumbledore even more to stand in his way. The sound of the Headmaster's heeled shoes walking away pounded in his mind spiking his anger. _He is not my mentor. This is just a pretender and I will make him rue crossing me._

* * *

He sat in the silence of the ward thinking of his next move when a curtain was pulled back startling him with the sounds of rings moving over the bar holding it up. He saw Jamie Potter sitting on a bed. She stared at him for a few uncomfortable seconds then walked to sit next to him.

She looked straight ahead with a frown on her face. When Narcissa impersonated her Harry had thought she looked very young and foolish, but seeing her with the tired and wary eyes he changed his mind. The true Jamie Potter was different than how Narcissa portrayed her.

"I will tell you two things. One, I have been keeping my niece safe for ten years. I am very, very good at making sure she lives and her enemies don't. I am a terrible witch to go against, so if you are trying to trick us to get to her you won't be able to. I will find out how you're possessing my nephew or using him and I will boil the flesh of your bones for harming him. Do you understand?"

"But I-"

She held up a hand to stop Harry, continuing in the same flat voice she had delivered her threat in. "Second, on the chance that you really are Harry, I am sorry." She bowed her head and for the first time she sounded like a human with emotions. "I am sorry you won't understand why I am being the way I am, and why I am so cruel. I promise you that I am working just as hard to find out if you're innocent as I am to find out if you are a puppet for Voldemort. I am hoping you are my nephew, I really am." She stood abruptly and walked away.

"You don't like looking at my face, do you?" Harry called after her making her stop.

She didn't turn around but he could practically feel the tension in her back. "Thank you for saving my life. Stay safe." She left as if she was fleeing him.

"What a fucked up woman," Harry muttered in her wake.

* * *

It was a week later and Harry was lying on a broom in the sky and hearing the Minister prattle on.

"And then they performed the triple sparrow attack," Ludo Bagman related excitedly. He sat astride his own broom in the Quidditch pitch, physically fit and dressed in his old team uniform. This was the tenth riding session they had been out on.

"But you were ready for it," Harry supplied having heard the same story every time Ludo had brought him along for his 'think sessions' as he called them.

"Course I was. Roberts and I figured out this routine you see, it was a real charm, called it the-uh, the-uh." Ludo snapped his fingers trying to remember.

Harry opened one eye to look at the man in disbelief. "The triple sparrow rear bludging invasion," Harry finished the man's sentence again. "Really Ludo, you've told me this story a hundred times. At least keep the maneuvers straight."

"Right, right, boy. You're a quick learner. Might even be on the time your first year. With the moves I've taught you. You remember the spit swallow technique, yes?" Ludo leaned over his broom eagerly trying to infect the reclining boy with his own enthusiasm.

"For Merlin's sake, Ludo. Not the spit swallow again. The swallow maneuvers are even more outdated than the sparrow flights. You're living in a time twenty years ago. Besides only place swallow technique is an issue anymore is in the bedroom, and I don't let any bitch spit. If you know what I mean." Harry went into a lazy dive dropping that bit of wisdom on Ludo.

He should've known better, a bludger came whistling behind him and he rolled to miss it. "Oi! You're going to kill me!"

And so it went, Ludo Bagman tried to peg Harry with a bludger and Harry tried his best to escape an ex world class beater. No one really had stepped in as his guardian and he had been left to the mercy of the Auror department by and large. They didn't mind much as they were conducting investigations closely related to him. Ludo Bagman took an interest and decided to introduce Harry to flying. Since that day Ludo did less work and more Quidditch. Harry was getting tired of the distraction regardless of how much he loved to fly.

Twisting in the air he saw a brown shape streaking for him, much smaller than a bludger. Reflexively he caught the projectile finding it to be a small owl.

"Harry, you have an owl! I'll break for five!" Ludo Bagman yelled as if he was not a day older than fifteen. Harry waved absently taking the scroll from the bird and the package attached. It was a note from Lucius. He had found Quirrel.

Harry smiled. _Finally something to do._

"Ludo, can we go back? I need to go to Diagon Alley." He flew up to Bagman flying eights.

"Hmm. I'm feeling like a spot of Firewhiskey myself. C'mon I'll take you. You can do your school shopping. That's what you want, right?"

"Yes, thank you." _Will be easy enough losing the overgrown child in London._

* * *

Despite the Ministry's and Ludo Bagman's reputation taking a hit because of recent events the man was not subdued at all. He walked up and down Diagon Alley introducing folks to the boy-who-lived. It wasn't until Harry had him successfully in the drink with a bunch of old Hogwarts buddies that he got away; only to go upstairs in the Leaky Cauldron.

The raucous laughter and inappropriate jokes quieted as he walked up the narrow and dark stairs. It was as if the gloom simply oppressed all sound. Harry found a corner he was familiar with and drank the polyjuice potion Lucius had acquired for him. Stepping into an unused room he checked his reflection to see a stranger; some random middle aged muggle. A dark cloak and hood covered him. He hid his child sized clothes in a corner. He was ready.

With heavy steps he walked to the room number Lucius had sent him. It was the room Quirrel was renting from Tom the Barkeep. The nervous wizard had a tendency to keep to himself during the day only leaving at night. It suited Harry fine. He knocked on the door, wondering if he really was about to do what he planned. _I have to save Bianca and Sirius, this is the only way.  
_  
He heard several locks opening before the door was a pulled open and Quirrel's apologetic face showed through. "Yes?"

"I am here to speak to your master."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Quirrel tried to shut the door. Harry gave it a solid kick, pushing the wizard back and entering. He had to make an impression before Quirrel dropped his act and started flinging magic.

Harry spoke in Parseltongue, "Lord Voldemort, I wish to speak with you."

Quirrel's eyes widened under his disheveled turban. Harry took a quick glance around the modest room filled to brim with dark artifact and then focused back on the wizard. Quirrel stood up his demeanor changing as a raspy whisper commanded him to invite Harry in.

Quirrel motioned to a chair which Harry took watching the wizard playing host to the Dark Lord for any sign of treachery. "A Parseltongue?" Quirrel asked sitting with his back to Harry and untying his turban.

Harry wet his lips feeling old and familiar dread of facing Voldemort. Red muddy eyes glared at him from the back of Quirrel's head, a nub of a nose, and thin lips as if someone had taken a knife to make a mouth.

"Who are you?" Voldemort rasped in parseltongue narrowing his eyes.

"I am someone who seeks your wisdom, Lord Voldemort," Harry replied in the same tongue.

"What is it you want, seeker of my wisdom?" Even the sibilant words were coated with sarcasm.

"You are the master of soul magic. No one has delved in it deeper than you. I wish to know how to rip out a living or dormant horcrux from a human being without damaging the host."

In his state Harry couldn't quite tell if Voldemort was surprised or shocked, the red eyes gave away nothing. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Why do you want to know?"

"I have a score to settle with Mortfidèle and Sirius Black. It doesn't satisfy me that to kill the one I will kill both. I want to make them suffer separately. I need Sirius Black alive and healthy so I can take my time exacting revenge on him," Harry spat bringing up his hate for his enemies to give credence to his acting.

"Mortfidèle is my creature. Why would I help you defeat him?"

"He has turned against you. He calls you weak for falling to a child and has claimed the title of Dark Lord. Already he kills Death Eaters loyal to you and converts others to his side. It is in your interest and mine if he is vanquished." Harry met the shadow's eyes waiting for its reaction. No matter how weak Voldemort was in that state he still inspired the ugly terror that he almost wore like his own skin. Harry suppressed the shudders that came just by being near the abomination.

"Granted," Voldemort finally hissed. "But I can take care of Mortfidèle's betrayal myself."

"As a crippled thing less than a spirit, forced to attach yourself like a parasite on other creatures? I don't think so. Give me your oath to teach me the mysteries of horcrux and soul magic and I will give you your heart's greatest desire." Harry let a wicked grin show on his face as he saw Voldemort's pseudo face twist in fury.

"What? What is it you offer you insolent worm?"

"A healthy body of your own, Lord Voldemort."

Harry smirked at the black slits dilating in Voldemort's eyes in greed.

_I have him._

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

_Recap:_

"Granted," Voldemort finally hissed. "But I can take care of Mortfidèle's betrayal myself."

"As a crippled thing less than a spirit, forced to attach yourself like a parasite on other creatures? I don't think so. Give me your oath to teach me the mysteries of horcrux and soul magic and I will give you your heart's greatest desire." Harry let a wicked grin show on his face as he saw Voldemort's pseudo face twist in fury.

"What? What is it you offer you insolent worm?"

"A healthy body of your own, Lord Voldemort."

Harry smirked at the black slits dilating in Voldemort's eyes in greed.

I have him.

Chapter 9

_**Dear Professor Voldemort**_

It was a broom closet Harry hid in, and as such it was one of the favorite spots for Ministry workers to hold quick strategy sessions against whichever poor sod they were going to pull the bureaucratic rug from under. He had shrunk the brooms, buckets, and other cleaning materials and put them in a corner to make room for his bottle of whiskey and copies of the Daily Prophet.

It was painfully difficult to get away with a drink as an eleven year old when the entire Auror Office was his babysitter. Still the Faustian deal he had cut with Voldemort and stumbling on Daily Prophet reports about his time travelling sister had necessitated a bit of alcohol and brooding, Auror babysitters notwithstanding. A candle lit the large picture of Harry wielding a cudgel and carrying his sister bridal style which the Daily Prophet had printed over the story of the Greengrass attack on the girl-who-lived. As awkward as he looked holding the weapon and his wounded sister, the picture still managed to make him look heroic.

"I'm a righ' vengeful lookin' bastard," he slurred to himself, kissing the top of bottle to take a pleasantly burning gulp. "Stupid bint, screwin'…screwin'…_bollocksing it up!"_ he yelled looking at the other headlines.

**Girl Who Lived Murders Beloved Pet in Cold Blood **_Ministry employee Wesley and family distraught after a night time kidnapping and killing of the family's adorable pet rat named Scabbers. Allegedly Miss Potter attempted to use Muggle disguises and make-up to hide her identity but was soon found out when captured by the eldest Wesley son returning home at an unexpected time of night. The Girl Who Lived claims the pet rat was a Death Eater animagus hiding in plain view with a Light sided family. The Ministry is investigating claims. _

**Girl Who Lived Cries Death Eater Again!** _After the very recent fiasco in which Miss Potter was indicted on charges of theft, destruction of property, and misuse of magical emergency services, she is crying wolf again. This time the much respected Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was accused by the Girl-Who-Lived for harboring a Death Eater in his home said to be kept under an invisibility cloak. Does Miss Potter's wanton desire for more fame know no end? Needless to report that such irresponsible accusations were not entertained by the Ministry of Magic. _

Harry scoffed at the headlines and the monumental disaster Bianca Potter had caused. He slurred some more obscenities at his absent twin wondering why on Earth he had landed in this mess. The broom closet suddenly opened and a couple slammed into the door in throes of passion. Harry cursed himself for forgetting to put a locking charm on the closet and then swore heavily at the vigorous dry humping. His disgusted exclamations caught the couple's attention.

"Yeah, occupied, piss off." Harry waved a hand. When they stood there mortified staring at him, he spoke more gently trying not to be a drunken belligerent, "Look, there's an alcove right before the third corridor on the left behind the mail room, just go there."

"You're _drinking_." The man was astonished.

Harry mock gasped. "And you're sleeping on the job."

The witch gave him a nasty look. "What a rude boy!"

"Have a listen, sweetheart, you're cheating on your husband. I'm going to be rude because sluts like you don't deserve better. Now what would little Romilda think if she knew someone other than darling daddy was drilling mummy when she went to see him at work, hmm?" Harry viciously enjoyed seeing the color drain from the witch's face.

"You know my daughter?" she sounded choked.

"And your husband. You know what? I can't have sex till I go through puberty again and convince a real woman to make a man out of me so no one else gets to have sex either!" Harry suddenly jabbed his wand at the wizard and witch sending yellow circles of light at their stomachs. "Congratulations, you have erectile dysfunction and _you_ have a sandpaper vagina." With that Harry upended the whiskey bottle in his mouth and shoved past the stunned pair.

He stayed close to the walls but turning one corner stumbled right into Nymphadora Tonks. She made an _oof!_ sound as she went down under Harry.

"Wocther Nymphie!" Harry greeted happily.

"Harry? You're drinking again!" Tonks took the bottle away from the child. "C'mon I better get you cleaned up before someone sees you."

"I want my bottle!" Harry swiped at Tonks' hand holding his whiskey, and then jumped for it when she raised it. "You're cruel and spiteful, Tonks. You used to be fun, what happened?" he reproached still more buzzed than he thought he was.

"Merlin, you're a weepy drunk. You'll never grow bigger if you keep drinking. Alcohol is bad for kids!" she admonished, dragging him to a restroom.

"God, I just need a woman and a drink right now! Nymphie you're both!" Harry happily pointed out.

"_Harry!" _Tonks hissed, unable to believe what was coming out of the eleven-year-old's mouth.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop. Wait a second," he said, grabbing Nymphadora's robes. She stopped and gave him a worried look. From inside his pocket Harry drew a small red gourd.

"How did you get that?" Tonks hissed, moving to stand so that she hid him from others' view.

"Blackmailed Gladys into it," Harry answered without concern, drinking the unfairly outlawed wit-sharpening potion. It was used by many Aurors to counter the effects of alcohol on a late night shift when they weren't supposed to be drinking.

"What are you doing to yourself?" Tonks asked, sounding very upset.

Harry looked at her forgetting to put up the façade of a cheerful child. He had let her see the frustration and weariness of a man of forty-seven years with more power and grief than was his fair share. Tonks very carefully kept herself from recoiling at his strangeness. She had seen him like this before. It was how he became when he trained her; a little secret of theirs since he had saved her life. She didn't ask how he knew so much about magic, and in return he taught her disciplines she couldn't find a single book on. He frightened her when he was like this, but she had made a wordless promise to the witch with red hair to be Harry's friend, so she stayed true to him.

"Let's get you ready. We should head out for the funeral," she said, avoiding his face. He nodded and followed her out, begrudging the duty expected of him.

* * *

The day was inappropriately sunny and the flowers seemed to burst vibrantly in defiance of the mood of those gathered for the Dursley funeral. Three graves sat open mouthed with three caskets set to be lowered. Marge Dursley, with a gentleman neighbor of hers for support, stood as far from Harry as possible. She had already screamed and harangued him for being the cause of their deaths.

"You have no right to be alive, filthy stain of – " Marge Dursley had suddenly been forced to stop as Nymphadora stepped in front of a silent Harry to protect him from his relative's vitriol. It was a lucky thing that Marge Dursley's neighbor took her by the arm to lead her away.

Harry stood as stone with his fingers laced in Tonks' hand. She had been there when the Unspeakable's Demon Investigation and Containment Squad gave him the release forms for his relatives' bodies. Quietly she had assured him she'll be there with him, and he was glad for her company. Although seeing her dressed in somber blacks with her hair in an imitation of his own bothered him – he would rather she had kept her pink locks.

It was a small service; those there mainly for the sake of keeping appearances. Harry had arranged a modest reception, knowing Marge Dursley did not have the sense to do it. As the service ended their neighbors from Privet drive and Vernon's work colleagues offered their condolences to Marge and with seemingly real pity to Harry who they thought had no place to go. Harry graciously accepted their muttered comments and squeezes of the shoulder. Tonks stayed loyally by his side shaking hands and offering 'thank you for coming' for his sake. He felt a burst of affection for her and promised himself to do the best by her he could.

Finally any who wanted to pay respects left, directed to a reception room on the grounds by ushers Harry had hired. He decided to stay a while watching the earth be shoveled over Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley.

He hated funerals; when he had much to say it felt that it was cheapening to put his emotion in words, and when he had nothing to say it seemed disrespectful to say nothing at all. With a sigh which elicited an automatic hand squeeze from Nymphadora he stepped forward and squatted by their graves.

"I am sorry. I wish we'd never seen each other, in any life. I'm sorry," he said to the gravestones and got up with a disgusted grimace. _What a thing to say,_ he chastised himself and found himself being wrapped in Tonks' arms.

"It wasn't your fault," she said with deep conviction. Harry smiled in her embrace. Her simple faith warmed him.

"Thank you." He broke away from her when he felt he was being watched; the hair on the back of his neck rose.

He looked around but saw no one; that only heightened his apprehension. Disillusionment or invisibility cloaks immediately crossed his mind. _I can't do anything without giving myself away in broad daylight. _

It would have been proper for him to play host at the reception but Harry felt he had done enough for the Dursleys and walked towards the car provided by the Ministry and the single Auror escort. It wouldn't do to wait and tempt whoever or whatever was spying on him. _Probably not Mortfidèle, his style is more direct and destructive. I expect this from Voldemort's Death Eaters or…the Order._

The last thought didn't sit too well with him and he itched to confront Dumbledore. He had loved his old teacher, truly, but the one keeping Bianca from him felt like a cheap copy. Harry motioned Tonks to enter ahead of him, so if some invisible enemy was going to take a shot she wouldn't be caught in the way.

Soon the magically adjusted old Morris was on the way back to the Ministry and he calmed as the feeling of being watched dissipated. _I am the bloody Grand Sorcerer. What am I doing running and hiding from Dumbledore and every other wand carrying fool?_

It wasn't the first time his age and situation grated on him. The dismissive looks because he was a child instead of one's of respect he was used to, the absence of a whole retinue of subordinates ready to carry out his orders, and most of all the fact that he couldn't act boldly as himself wore him down. He had never thought he was wed to his position but having fallen from it was difficult to accept.

Back at the Ministry they made their way to the Auror offices that doubled for Harry's home. His guardianship had lapsed into limbo, any interested parties were waiting for Jamie Potter to claim him or unequivocally disown him. It was fine by Harry; he had Lucius Malfoy ready with papers and lawyers to fight for guardianship of him if necessary. Ludo Bagman had made throw-away comments about having him in the Ministry as a permanent fixture.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," she said hitching a fake smile on her face.

He nodded and fell in step with her. Their walk took a familiar path through the Ministry. The vast building had many stretches of quiet hallways and beautifully adorned places to serve as retreats. She hoped the silence between them was helping Harry like other times but his face was blank of any true emotion. He had a fixed small smile one his face that she had learned was a face he kept when he didn't want to be bothered with questions. She draped her arm over his shoulders and gave him an encouraging smile. He returned it with wrapping his arm around her waist. It was awkward walking like that but Tonks was happy he responded to her.

"Nymphie, I'm going to leave the Ministry soon. I don't want you to worry," Harry broke his silence.

"Where are you going to go? Can I come?" she asked cheerfully, knowing full well that telling Harry 'no' was a stupid answer. Besides it wasn't her nature to be bossy, she'd rather be part of mischief.

"I'm going to look for my sister. I forget sometimes who I am, you know, acting like a child is so easy; playing pretend. But I'm not going to be separated from my family any more," he said with deep resolve sending a shiver up Tonk's spine. "And no, you can't come."

"Someday you will have to tell me what you mean when you say things like that," she said hoping she wouldn't make him lock up.

"I know. I will. I promise you that." He squeezed her waist a little to affirm his promise. "Everyone knows I trust you, everyone is watching you. I don't want them to break you just to get to me, if they think you don't really know anything, no one will hurt you."

"Harry…" Tonks began tiredly. "I don't think anyone is following me. I'm pretty careful."

Harry smiled at her naïveté. He knew full well her mother wouldn't let her spend so much time at this age day and night at the Ministry surrounded by Aurors and in the presence of a boy who attracted Death Eater attacks. That is, unless someone like Albus Dumbledore, the head of the Order of the Phoenix, asked her to let her daughter get close to the boy who was a squib.

"Not until you can transfigure yourself to mess up your vocal chords enough to make veritaserum unusable on you, and learn Occlumency. Till then you will just have to not know. Good motivation, I know how curious you are." Harry smiled at her.

There were short cuts that would ensure she wouldn't be compromised but he wasn't ready to use that magic on her. If she one day trusted him completely then he would happily let her become one of his avatars and have the ability to use some of his power.

Tonks cussed. "You're evil. I'll have the transfiguration down soon but Occlumency, eugh, I hate it."

"You're a powerful witch, Nymphie. It's rare for anyone to do fine self-transfiguration like that," Harry complimented; truly impressed that she could be on her way to achieving that skill at only sixteen.

"Being a Metamorpmagus rocks!" Tonks grinned. "And…I am still coming with you."

"I'm going to upset a lot of people. I don't have anything to lose, you do," Harry said, pointing to the emblem of M.o.M Auror Office stitched on her trainee robes. He didn't need to tell her that being recruited after OWL year was nearly unprecedented. She was an exceptional witch and her association with him had already made her some enemies in the Ministry.

"Yup, you just have your life to lose, o' boy-who-lived," she said cheerfully, pinching the soft flesh on his shoulder. Harry yowled and slapped her hand away.

"Damned teenage girls!" he swore, rubbing his shoulder.

"Harry?" Tonks said to gain his attention.

"Hmm?"

"I heard you refused my parent's offer to take you in." She kept her tone level so Harry couldn't tell how she was feeling but the implied question was loud and clear.

"I don't want to bury your parents too, Nymph. You're my friend; I don't want to do that to you." He kept his tone as even as her. He knew she had frozen in her steps but didn't wait for her. She would deny that her family would be in danger because of him, she might even believe it. _She's so young and fragile,_ he thought sadly while loving her dearly for her sweet heart.

"Ready to train?" Tonks asked catching up with him.

"You're going to make me pay for saying that, aren't you?" Harry grinned at the girl by him.

"You've filled your quota for heroic things this year, kid. Anything more and you have to pay the toll," Tonks adopted an ominous tone.

"Is it a kissing toll booth?" Harry winked at her. She flicked him on the nose running away from him to the training room they used when the other Aurors were keeping office hours.

Happy to have an excuse to blow steam and forget about the Dursleys, Harry followed her. She had already known he had special knowledge of defense against the dark arts from when he had guided her to help Aurors at his home in wake of Mortfidèle's attack. So he hadn't held back when they started training for fun.

She'd asked him only once, "Harry, will you tell me how you know all this?"

And he'd promised her, "I will tell you when you can hide the secret. Now get off your arse and fight me like a man."

Since then he had reverted to his role of an Auror master whenever training, and had been teaching her the practical side of dueling. She knew enough theory, but the fact that she had opened with a verbal disarming charm against Mortfidèle told him she had no real experience or training.

The impromptu training session that Harry knew Tonks had suggested to get his mind off running away only made it easier for him to sneak out. After some hard lessons Tonks was left exhausted and snoring in the witches' changing rooms with a little bewitchment by Harry.

Harry slipped away for another lecture from Lord Voldemort on soul magic. This lesson turned out to be as bizarre as the past seven had been.

* * *

"Resonance," the ill voice whispered in parseltongue. Harry grimaced, trying to ignore his loathing for the Dark Lord. "Abandon your ego, divorce your heart, crush your thoughts…and then _listen_."

"You're unexpectedly Zen, Professor Voldemort," Harry said in English, "in a twisted militant Zen way, of course. No offense meant." Harry opened one eye to see Quirrell tremble and sweat.

"Silence," Voldemort's voice creaked. "If you can not find resonance you will fail at soul magic. You will never have your revenge, my pitiful pupil."

Harry ignored the insult, too old to let something like that irritate him. "It would help if you told me what I am looking for? Why are we sitting here in public doing this?" he asked, barely controlling his frustration with the Dark Lord's teaching method. All around them wizards and witches were happily shopping. It was Hogwarts season, and Diagon Alley was packed with students trying to get supplies.

"I overestimated your talent. I expected you would have advanced enough to take the resonance of others. That is why we are here, for you to practice," Lord Voldemort quieted, and Harry waited. Quirrell continued to eat his ice cream from Fortescue with a nervous sweat. He was afraid of someone finding out his secret. "Cast the spells I have taught you, pupil, look for a stained resonance. Palpate it, and tell me how dark it is. Pick someone, anyone."

Harry looked around him and saw a few children sitting not too far from his table at Fortescue's. He ignored them in favor of a group of late teen girls standing across the street. Making sure to keep eye contact he began whispering the enchantments crafted by Lord Voldemort himself.

"Pray tell, why not target the children three feet from us?" Lord Voldemort broke into Harry's concentration with his sick voice.

Harry frowned, knowing he had to provide an answer suitable for a dark wizard. "They are children. I doubt their souls are stained."

"And I imagine the vapid, shallow, witches whose busts have enamored you are more stained?" the Dark Lord solicited, sounding like a terminally ill devil. "Fool! Do not dismiss souls merely because they are children. Darkness touches all, it is the ultimate truth. Look at the cherubic one there, blue eyes, and apple cheeks," he said this as if they were epithets, "listen to her resonance."

Apprehensively Harry began casting the magic he had been practicing on himself on the seven year old child. He felt ill at the thought of what he was doing, but following Voldemort's teachings tried to silence his thoughts and emotions. The state was not hard to reach; he had learned to separate himself from his own fears and thoughts long ago when studying higher magic. But "resonance" eluded him. He went deeper, cut himself further from the world, until he could taste the spell he was casting on his tongue. Noise and colors of his surrounding fell away, as if whitewashed. He heard the sound of a music box, sweet and a little tinny. He smiled at the pleasant tune. But then he heard the first hiccup in the notes, then another. The same song repeated and twisted into dissonance at the same place again and again. The longer he listened the more he abhorred the broken sounds, the more he felt dirty.

He couldn't hold it anymore and drew a breath, feeling as if he had been holding it underwater. Color and noise rushed. The blond child was staring at him with wide fearful blue eyes. He gave her a weak smile and tore himself away from her gaze.

His mouth was dry and sweat shone on his head, but he didn't move to relieve himself of either discomfort. It would not do to reveal to Lord Voldemort how disturbed he was.

"And so you take your first stuttering steps, bravo," the Dark Lord's voice wheezed from underneath Quirrell's turban. "Soon, you will know by instinct if it was her who was dulled by darkness, or if _she_ did it of her own will. What do you think?"

"I believe evil touched her, she did not seek it out," Harry answered somberly, feeling every one of his forty-seven years. "But she has done something since…something to sully herself."

A hiss of pleasure from the parasitic spirit crawled under Harry's skin. "You are wiser than you have acted so far. Yes, she used the darkness left on her to make it her own, drawing power from it. This is true bravery. One day she will be one of mine."

Harry's blood curdled at the tone of affection in the corrupt spirit's voice. _No_, he swore, _she won't be yours_. He memorized the timid child's face, and her fearful eyes with the knowledge he had seen into her. He promised himself he would save her. Somehow.

The vibrant summer day with its sounds of cheerful commerce suddenly seemed to press Harry on all sides. Somehow it was all too oppressive. _Stop projecting, idiot. This is no time for depression_. Still, the fact that wizards and witches of all ages were happily enjoying Diagon Alley when a wizard whose name they feared to utter was among them worried him. _How many children have had Lord Voldemort look into them?_

"The secret," Voldemort whispered in parseltongue, "is to find the resonance of the horcrux and the host. When you know which is which you can destroy the one you want to expel."

"And how do you do that?" Harry asked.

He could almost hear the smile in Voldemort's answer, "Why by using your own resonance as the knife edge. Be cautious, if the horcrux soul's power is greater than yours, you will fail. You will break your own spirit."

Harry could imagine that Voldemort expected just that to happen to him when he tried to exorcise Mortfidèle's part from Sirius' soul. "This is not very direct, it is almost metaphysical nonsense. What's the spell, the incantation, potion, ritual, what?!" Harry demanded, letting his anger bleed freely.

"Do not presume to speak to me in that tongue," Voldemort spoke coldly. "It is old magic."

That was the last thing Harry expected to hear from Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore's assertion that Voldemort fell to him when he was a child because he did not know of the 'old magic' Lily used had assured Harry that his nemesis was incapable of anything from the forgotten lore.

"So you cannot teach me," Harry accused.

"You asked for what cannot be taught but learned only if sought by those who have courage to sacrifice in the quest of it," Voldemort retorted.

"Of all people, _you_ would pull Dumbledore level wise man crap?" Harry asked in shock, forgetting to speak in parseltongue. Quirrel shot him a panicked look, and nodded to other patrons of Fortescue's not especially far from them.

"One day you will regret your words," the Dark Lord promised. "It is the way of old magic; it can not be taught. _Understand this_."

"But you are the master of soul magic. You created the living horcrux, and so it is you who knows how to kill it not old magic," Harry said, reverting back to a whisper in parseltongue.

"True, I am the master, and you should be grateful for my teachings."

"You took an oath, Riddle. An oath to do everything in your power to teach me this discipline." Harry turned to look at Quirrell with shrewd eyes. "I don't think you have. Shall I declare the oath broken and let magic decide which one of us has been honest?" he left the question hanging for a moment, watching Quirrel's face pale.

The oath he had bound himself and the Dark Lord in was obscure and of true power. It would reduce the one who broke it into something worse than even the dark lord's incorporeal form.

Harry heard a faint, almost inaudible, keen. He looked around in alarm only to come back to Quirrel and his turban; it was the Dark Lord. A wicked smile curled Harry's polyjuiced face. Even the threat of declaring that oath broken would wound the guilty party. It was for the very fickle and exacting nature of the oath that it had fallen into obscurity in the first place.

"Master?" Quirrell called; his voice aquiver.

"Give it to him. Curse you," Voldemort ordered weakly.

Quirrell plunged his hand within his robes and brought out three thick scrolls. They were bound in leather strips. Each was heavy enough to qualify doubling as a weapon. Quirrell's face showed loathsome hate when Harry took the thick scrolls.

"The master's journals. He has kept his word, will you keep yours?" Quirrell asked, surprisingly confidently. But Harry had remembered how Quirrell's demeanor changed when he revealed himself so long ago in his real childhood.

"Don't fret. At the summer solstice he will have a new body, _if_ I have learned the magic he promised to teach me by then. _That_ was our deal," Harry said getting up.

Quirrell gave him a vapid smile with a thoroughly servile bow, no doubt for the benefit of wizards and witches rubbernecking to look at the tense pair. Harry nodded genially and left, turning his back on Quirrell.

_Old magic_, Harry cursed. _It just had to be!_

It was the first time, Harry realized, that Voldemort was actually being honest with him. If the kind of things he needed to do with the soul were truly old magic, then there was not much Voldemort could teach Harry. Being the Master of Death, and the custodian of the mysterious power in Department of Mysteries, Harry understood all too well of the elusive nature of anything that had the dubious distinction of being called 'old magic.' It said something that he had never tried to truly understand what being the master of all the hallows meant, and was still not completely a master of the prophesied magic.

"Well," he said to himself out loud. "Time to go steal my sister and spit in Dumbledore's eye."

* * *

A.N. Now edited by Jeram and Militis, much thanks to both. I know it's short, but it's been a long time since I posted something, so just a little something for your patience.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A.N. Edited by Militis. Much thanks.

* * *

The lesson with the Dark Lord had ended sooner than he expected. As he left Fortescue's he felt the little girl's eyes on him. He turned back and walked to her. She looked panicked.

"What's your name?" he asked, watching the child-like wariness in her friends. She mumbled an answer, making him ask again.

"Astoria Greengrass," she replied shamefully.

_Oh! A child whose fathers and brothers I took. _

"If anyone bothers you in Hogwarts, go to Harry Potter. He is your guardian from now on. Do you understand me?" He met her eyes as he cupped her face, casting a spell using his secret magic. He could almost feel the girl fill with assurance at his touch and words. "Tell your sister the same."

She nodded and he left feeling like he had done something to ease the damage he had left behind. After recent events the Greengrass name had fallen from favor. The two daughters of the house were vulnerable, but he would be there to protect them if need be.

Gringotts loomed and he entered watching for spies. He could not afford for Dumbledore to find out that Harry Potter had his own vault at the bank. As cagey Goblins were about their own matters, Dumbledore had wielded political power long enough to have contacts within the Goblin nation. Harry was there to tie up a loose end.

He approached a goblin and presented his key. He expected the goblin to point out that he wasn't Harry Potter, but the creature did not seem to care. _So much for the vaunted security of Gringotts. _He rode down to the vault Lucius had opened for him with the Lestrange fortune.

"Christ," Harry muttered, looking at the gold. He had Lucius arrange another wallet like Hagrid had gifted him to carry the gold in. He had also charmed both his old one and the new one to be bottomless. But it would still be painfully tedious to transfer the ridiculously large fortune into two wallets.

"Do you require assistance?" the goblin asked suspiciously.

"Just a moment to think, please," Harry answered. The rebuke was not lost on the goblin that said something unpleasant in his tongue and left the vault.

Harry shook his head suddenly. _I'm an idiot. _

He took off the two wallets hanging from his neck and cast _engorgio_ on them until they were as large as trunks. After that it was a matter of few minutes to transfer the mounds of gold and silver into the pouches, and shrink them back to size. He put the wallets back around his neck so they rested securely under his robes.

"I am done here, please close the vault. Harry Potter does not require it anymore. Here's the key," he offered to the goblin.

Unbeknownst to him, it was the same goblin Lucius had dealt with. The creature had become highly suspicious but he was happy enough to be rid of the mystery rather than solve it. With an abrupt gesture of his curled hands he vanished the key and the vault disappeared into the wall.

"You don't like us very much do you?" Harry asked, looking at the old goblin.

"Even breathing the same air with you is disgusting," the goblin replied with a toothy grin.

"Well, start another one of your rebellions. Until then, get in the cursed wagon and take me up," Harry replied just as amiably. _Fucking goblins_.

Harry checked the watch on his wrist, seeing that he had little time left in the polyjuiced body. He ran with as much dignity he could out of the bank.

"Kill two birds with one stone, meet with Voldemort and close my bank account with one dose of polyjuice. What a _grand _idea." Harry cussed quietly, finding a shadowed corner to make himself invisible in and change.

Luckily he hadn't yet had to visit Madame Malkin's. Narcissa had provided his wardrobe, no doubt happily engaged in her quest to make him seem as lord-like as possible. He changed into the set of robes he carried as a spare, putting an expensive cloak over it. The cloak in the summer heat would draw eyes of experienced Aurors and paranoids otherwise, but he couldn't afford to be mugged by the curious.

He took a casual stroll down the alley, browsing shops here and there, lost in thought. It amazed him how deeply he had become involved in the alternate world. Even Lucius, who was the perfect expendable thrall had gained some level of protection from him. That is nothing to say for Narcissa who had become an alternating submissive follower and a self appointed mother. Lastly, there was Bianca, who had vowed to protect him. He hadn't even considered the possibility of trying the ritual again, to see if he would end up back in the right world. As he stood with other children admiring the displayed racing brooms he wondered if he was abandoning his wife and children.

_I might end up splitting time, or fall in another world again. There is no guarantee. _But where his mind could be convinced he felt guilty in his heart. He heard a bunch of giggles behind him and turned a curious glance to find Astoria Greengrass and her friends. He sighed to himself in defeat. _Too late, I'm already committed to the innocents of this world. I can't leave Bianca, Tonks, or the children I have made fatherless. _

It was times like these that he felt great empathy for the man who had run his own life, had set him up to be a martyr, Albus Dumbledore. But he wondered if even Dumbledore had killed as many with his decisions and orders as he himself had. Somehow he doubted it. After all, he had killed his own son to stop a new dark age.

"Harry?!" someone yelled, startling him. He whirled around, his wand slipping down his sleeve to his hand, hidden behind his back. He searched for the source but didn't see her coming until she was almost upon him. Cloaked and hooded just like him, his sister.

It was as if someone threw a switch, turning him from one state to another. It had been gnawing on him that his family was being kept from him. Seeing the shadow of his daughter's face in Bianca, that gnawing boiled into possessive rage. She wound through the kids around him rudely, and he stepped forward to take her into a crushing hug.

"Bianca," he whispered. "This time you're not leaving me behind."

Her face was crushed to the side of his, so he heard her whisper back clearly, "I'm sorry, Harry. I messed up. I promised I was going to take care of you. I let you down."

Harry smiled. "Wasn't your fault, little one." He pulled back from her, pushing back her hood enough so he could see her face properly. Intense hazel eyes; she was obviously emotional if the tears were any indication. Dark lashes, all the darker under the hood, and the narrow jaw line softened by baby fat that had reminded him first of Lily Luna. She was family. She was his.

His hand went automatically to take hers, like so many times he had done it with his children. And just in time, as the Girl-Who-Lived's retinue caught up to her.

"Hey, aren't you the boy who lived?" a child next to him asked. Harry noticed his hood had fallen off, the now famous sun burst scar on his face plain to see, in the middle of Quidditch fans. It was perfect.

"Yes, I am," Harry said loudly, putting his hand out to shake. The throng of children closed in on him and Bianca. The bodyguards couldn't rush in and get Bianca like they had wanted. Too many people were looking their way, and excited children were blocking their path. Harry smiled a wicked smile to himself when the children noticed it was The Bianca Potter holding his hand. Bianca hugged him to her side, putting a protective arm around him and glared at the fans.

"Back off my brother!" she yelled, frightening the excited children. Harry felt her body tense like a spring; her already teary eyes were wild with rage and…fear. Suddenly, it wasn't funny anymore to play with Bianca's keepers; because unknowingly he was playing with her feelings. She looked ready to kill. _This isn't normal, she isn't thinking straight._

"Hey give us some space. We've been fighting dark wizards. Sorry about that. It's just scary, you know. Excuse us, excuse us," Harry said, making a path into Quality Quidditch Supplies, away from her keepers. The children who had quieted started buzzing again in their wake. Bianca followed him without protest, only shooting baleful looks behind her to stop anyone else from entering the shop.

Harry guided her to the back of the store where the broom maintenance supplies were shelved. That is, away from the shiny displays of racing brooms that attracted the usual customer.

Bianca's wand hand was trembling, and she had not so subtly moved them both out of easy angles of spell attacks. A tactical move not expected of an eleven year old girl, or even a fifteen year old girl trapped in an eleven year old body. Unless she was a natural survivalist someone trained her to think that way.

"What is wrong, Bianca?" Harry asked softly. She didn't seem to hear him. He grasped her arm gently. She looked at him as if she was drinking in the sight of him. "Bianca, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, Harry. I don't want anyone to hurt you again." She hugged him, rubbing circles on his back. Harry looked to heaven in exasperation. _Does every woman over ten years younger than me feel necessary to mother me?_

It was a second more before he realized the girl was hardly keeping it together. So he returned the favor, gently rubbing her back until she began to relax against him.

"Everything changed. Nothing makes sense," she mumbled in his shoulder.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what was happening with Bianca. _She overreacts in a crowd, ridiculously protective of me, automatically hides us from line of sight of curses…is worried about seeing me hurt 'again.'_

"We'll make sense of it together. Now, tell me how you've been?" Harry asked, holding her at arm's length to look at her. She smiled, and something stirred in him, some forgotten memory. His mother and father laughing at him from a picture – she had their mother's smile.

"You know, before…you couldn't do magic, but now you can! _You can do magic!" _she squealed, like the school girl she was, hopping on her feet, and holding his hands. Harry laughed with her, warmed by her enthusiasm. He tried to remember that feeling when he had first touched his wand so many years ago, and _known_ he was magical. He could understand Bianca's happiness for him.

"Bianca!" a woman's voice shouted, right before the door to the store slammed open.

"Fuck, that's my Aunt, we have to get out of here," Bianca swore.

"You said fuck," disturbed by hearing the words come out of an apparent eleven year old girl.

The shelves suddenly shook, and a tremble went through the floor. It completely distracted Harry's shock at his sister's potty mouth. A mouth that had curved into his mother's smile just a few seconds ago; he shook his head to dispel his need to give her a talking to.

"She's mad, she's already spelling the store. We have to go!" Bianca pulled him further to the back.

"She's not just good at Arithmancy, is she? She's a real Arithmancer," Harry said. "A _fucking_ natural," Harry cursed, following Bianca's lead.

"That's a bad word, you can't swear!" Bianca snapped.

The air around them hazed, the walls seemed to warp, and straighten. Symbols appeared shining in the equipment.

"It's too late Bianca, she's got us covered. Trying to find a backdoor won't work," Harry tugged her hand, stopping her before she went into the backroom.

"I'm not leaving you." Bianca snarled like a cornered animal. Harry began to worry for her again. Whatever had happened to him in the future, Bianca hadn't dealt well with it.

"It's best if we just talk to her. She has a net all over the store by now. It will take something really big to break through her traps. A true Arithmancer can predict dozens of probabilities and enchant the surroundings to close off all possibilities except the one _she_ wants," Harry explained, calmly waiting for the boots stomping towards them to reach them.

Bianca looked panicked and angry. "I know, but I am not leaving you."

Harry gave her a fierce smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

The approaching boots came to a stop. Harry squeezed Bianca's hand, and turned from her to see themselves surrounded by the Order of the Phoenix. 'Aunt Jamie' wore leather knee high boots, worn, and practical, she had on an equally weathered maroon cloak. His aunt's boyish face was just the right side of feminine to be fetching when Narcissa had worn it; but the real woman looked harsh and brittle. _It wouldn't take much to break her, and she is still not looking at me. _

"Running away again, Bianca?" Jamie Potter demanded in a deceptively soft tone. Harry saw the others with her tense just a bit, and knew they too had picked up on the undercurrent of antagonism between the aunt and niece.

"Not running away. Just talking to _my_ brother," Bianca answered. Her hand stayed firmly in Harry's, and the tilt of her head expressed all the insolence she had left out of her words.

_Girl fight, my favorite. _Harry fought to keep the grin of his face. He noticed familiar faces of Shacklebolt, Auror 'super-rack' Gladys, old harmless Diggle, and the too capable Hestia Jones.

"We have talked about this," Jamie Potter said in the same dangerously soft voice.

"No, _you_ talked _at_ me. I wasn't allowed to say anything. Merlin, Aunt Jamie, he's your family too. He's your nephew," Bianca appealed, dropping the rebellious body language.

She looked to her Aunt, begging with her eyes. It cut Harry. He no longer cared to stand by. When Jamie looked at his hand locked in Bianca's and looked away, he decided to enter the conversation.

"Thank you for coming to my relatives' funeral, Miss Potter. I hoped you would say hello, but I can see you still can't look at my face," he said, taking a guess at his invisible follower.

"How did you - ?" Jamie looked at him in surprise, making eye contact for the first time.

"Told you he was weird," Auror Gladys muttered.

"Weird? Gladys!" Harry reproached, knowing the woman had been afraid of him since the incident with Fat Todd.

"Weird in a good way," Gladys held up her hands.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I bet no one ever told you you're wonderful with kids."

Gladys looked confused. "Uh, no, they haven't." She looked to Shacklebolt, who was unable to hide his suffering sigh.

"We asked Ollivander to make time for us. It would be wise to head over there," Hestia Jones interrupted Harry tormenting Gladys.

"Bianca, let go of him. We are leaving," Jamie Potter snapped.

"No," Bianca said very quietly. "_I_ won't abandon him."

Numbers and symbols flashed on the shelves, floors, and broom equipment around them for a moment. Something had changed the probabilities Jamie Potter had enchanted against.

"Auror Shacklebolt, if you could please bring my niece along," Jamie Potter asked without turning around and started walking away.

Harry had known Shacklebolt for years, He could see the reluctance in the man's mostly expressionless face. Harry shifted enough so he was facing his old colleague and friend as he moved toward Bianca.

Surprisingly he didn't have to do anything. Auror Gladys put her hand on Shacklebolt's wand arm in warning. The tall black man looked askance.

"Harry, please, your sister needs to come with us. She's not safe. Let her go. You shouldn't be here either," Gladys ignored Shacklebolt in favor of trying to talk down Harry. _She's smarter than she looks. None of the others noticed that if I am the real hurdle standing in their way. _

"Harry's not keeping me here. I'm staying myself," try as she might, Bianca couldn't help sounding petulant. As far as he was concerned, eleven year old girls, despite knowledge of the future, lost the ability to intimidate to sheer cuteness.

"Gladys, he is just a boy," Shacklebolt's deep bass rumbled reassurance.

"I knew your mother and father. They were such a sweet and brave couple," Diggle suddenly doddered over, as sudden one could dodder.

"Yes, thank you," Harry said, always uncomfortable when someone spoke of his parents like that. Especially Diggle, who was wont to canonize his friends.

Bianca yelled just as Harry felt her hand rip away from hers. Diggle had distracted him.

"Let me go!" Bianca yelled outraged, kicking and flailing in Shacklebolt's grip. Her hood and cloak had fallen off of her and her pony-tail hair was in disarray.

"Bad idea, Shacklebolt," Gladys said nervously looking at Harry, who was standing very calmly.

"This is hardly necessary, why don't we just bring the boy with us to Ollivander's," Hestia Jones added her two-cents in.

"Put her down before this goes all wrong, please." Gladys kept looking at Harry worriedly.

"I need to get back to work. The sooner we are done in the Alley, the sooner I can leave. I am in no mood to be punished for Miss Potter's problems with the younger Miss Potter," Shackleboltt snapped, clearly at the end of his patience.

Harry looked at the symbols appearing and disappearing around them. None of them were aware how hard Jamie Potter was working to keep the situation under control. The probabilities were spinning out of control. Behind all the mystery of the Arithmancy, one face held true: the more power in an environment, the greater the number of things that could happen. At that given moment there was no dearth of magical talent in the shop, despite the presence of a Grand Sorcerer.

Jamie had probably counted on the rest of the Order to not act or interfere, so their magical talent did not have to be accounted for. But they were all acting unlike she had predicted. Bianca going berserk in Shacklebolt's arms was creating more and more possibilities by the second. Harry wondered if she was doing it deliberately. It was one of the ways to beat an Arithmancer; by making one wild plan after another, without stop, one could overwhelm an Arithmancer's abilities.

Harry watched Jamie Potter's slowly bowing back. She was rigid and working hard against the situation getting out of her control. If it went on her traps would begin firing without being triggered. She could bring the store down around them if she didn't give up trying to control all future possibilities.

There was a quick way to stop her. Harry could summon his power. In a moment it would shatter her grasp on the probabilities within the shop. With his power there were just too many things he could do. It was because of this he was keeping his mind and intentions quiet. He did not want to inadvertently send his sister's overworked aunt to St. Mungo's mental damage ward.

He knew this for a fact. In his forty-seven years he had fought all manner of naturally talented wizards and witches. Be they born Arithmancers, Rune Masters, Necromancers, whatever; he knew how to break them.

The best Arithmancer he had met and destroyed was his son. Albus Severus was a natural Arithmancer. He was an incredibly gifted Arithmancer, perhaps terribly gifted. But then he was his _father's_ son.

Harry had killed his son by simply showing his full potential. It had broken Albus Severus' mind, and his body had soon followed.

Albus Severus had tried to predict and counter all the possibilities available to his father. Still, there were secrets of his father's power only known to his two best friends; even his mother had not known all of his father's secrets.

Even though Albus Severus was a prodigy, even he could not _calculate_ Death. And he died trying to encompass his father's power with his Arithmancy.

The Dark Son could have one day succeeded his father. But he could never have surpassed him.

The last look on his face was not one twisted with dark magic of hate and greed. It was a look of utter fear.

Terror of the inevitable: his father.

Harry cursed himself, remembering the moment he had drawn the Elder Wand, curled his fingers around the blood stained wood… And watched his son's expression go from haughty to confused to naked helplessness.

All Harry had to do to save his boy was to let go of the wand in his hand. But he didn't know.

His beautiful son died in fear of him, unable to comprehend the vastness of the Master of Death.

Oh how Harry had cursed himself, reviled himself for not seeing it soon enough. Not realizing what it would mean for his son, someone sensitive to fate's working, to be faced with him taking his place.

He saw that Bianca's eyes were fixed on her aunt's back. _She is doing this on purpose. _

"Bianca, stop. You're hurting your aunt," his words harshly cut into the sounds of Bianca's struggling and the adults' argument.

"Harry?" Bianca called, going limp in Shacklebolt's arms. She looked to her aunt who was holding her sides trying to keep it together. Shame and fear touched the little girl's features.

"I know she left me and won't let you see me. But you won't feel right hurting her for abandoning me, you're not the type. You care for her too much," Harry said quietly, keeping his eyes on Jamie Potter's back.

Hestia Jones entered his vision, he looked up in her pink-cheeked face to find a solemn look. It seemed odd to him; she was immortalized in his mind as the witch who used to laugh ridiculously at Muggle appliances in the Dursley's house. She handed him a handkerchief. "You have something on your face, Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked and touched his face realizing he had tears on his cheeks. _Time will never make it easy, Albus Severus. _He wiped his face, glad for Hestia's tact. _Maybe I will get to know her better this time, hopefully before she is killed. _

"Come, we have to find a wand for your sister," Hestia said, gesturing to the door. She smiled which made her look a lot younger, and more familiar than the serious look she had before.

"Sure," Harry shrugged. Kingsley had gone over to whisper something in Jamie Potter's ear. Harry didn't hear their hushed argument, but guessed well enough that Jamie Potter wanted nothing to do with him and Kingsley wanted to compromise by bringing him along. _Of course, the Aurors should be on my side, I've lived in their offices for weeks. _

"I know him, Potter. He protected one of mine with his life. He is _not_ an agent of the Dark Lord!" even Kingsley's hushed voice was deep enough to roll and rumble. Harry kept the smile off his face. The Order was divided over him. The Aurors in the Order were on his side. It made sense that saving Tonks' life would have gained him their favor.

Harry couldn't bring himself to care too much at the moment. He was lost in the emotions brought on by remembering his son and the murders of his family. Bianca put her arms around him putting his head on her shoulder; trying to be the big sister she thought she was.

"I thought you already had a wand," Harry asked.

"Mum's," she explained. Harry felt his heart leap a little at that. "I've been to Ollivander three times. He doesn't have the right one for me."

"Which one did you have _last_ time?" Harry whispered, as Jamie Potter and Kingsley argued.

Bianca shot him an alarmed look. "Oh, right. I was hoping you'd forget that."

"Not a chance. So?" he asked.

"Holly with a phoenix feather," she said.

"Huh." Harry smiled. "That's the one I have."

Bianca looked gob-smacked. _Now, when she's distracted. _

Harry grinned as Jamie Potter's Arithmancy calculated traps disappeared just at the right moment. Kingsley had talked her down. Harry put his mouth close to Bianca's ears. "I feel like pissing off Dumbledore for keeping you from me. You in?"

The mischievous gleam in her eyes was all the answer he needed.

"Gladys?" Harry called, looking over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Don't worry, alright?" Harry said, giving her the look he did every time he blackmailed her into doing something for him. Gladys' alarmed look made Harry laugh.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Bianca asked with his arms still around his neck.

"Kidnapping you." With that Harry picked up his sister and realized he was too weak to carry her for long. He then walked straight into the broom shelves, which melted around him, letting him through to outside of the shop. Behind him there were dismayed yells.

_Gladys and Hestia will be in trouble. And they probably think I teared up to trick them. Too bad, my blood is mine. _

Bianca dropped out of his arms. She looked at the wall of Quality Quidditch and then back at him with big round eyes. "How did you do that?"

"You're not the only one who travelled back in time," Harry answered.

"_What?!" _Bianca shrieked.

_Damn women, why do they always have to scream when I try to kidnap them for their own good. _

He grabbed Bianca and disapparated, before her guards could run to where they had heard her scream.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

A.N. Edited by Mindless, Jeram, Militis. Much thanks to them.

Warning: Fanboyisms and Guilty Pleasures abound.

All unapologies offered.

_____________________________________________

Something inexplicable happened when he disapparated. It felt as if it was he who was being side-alonged instead of him taking Bianca. In another second they appeared in the middle of Diagon Alley in eyesight of Quality Quidditch. _This is not where I was going! _

Harry whipped his head side to side looking for an explanation of what had just happened.

"Bianca, we'll talk later, best if we walk the rest of the way," Harry said, tugging on his sister's arm. She didn't budge.

"No, Mr. Potter, I think we will be staying exactly where we are," Bianca said in a strange voice. It made Harry's hair rise.

"Bianca?" he asked, looking at her, unable to explain the faint smile and flat eyes on her face. Before he could figure out what was going, on her wand was under his chin pressing into his throat. "What are you doing?"

"Confused?" she asked. "I am glad to return the favor. You have had me quite perturbed Mr. Potter."

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Bianca?" Harry tried to shove her wand away from his neck but she pressed it deeper, making him pause in his movement. He looked down the length of the wand and his blood froze in his veins. "Why do you have the Death Stick?" he asked, recognizing the wand she was holding.

"You know too much," Bianca said in the same strange voice it had turned to.

People were beginning to notice them, a small circle formed of onlookers. They pointed, asking each other if that was the girl who lived and the boy who lived. It became a bigger commotion when Bianca's guards burst out of Quality Quidditch and saw them in the middle of the street. Harry caught Jamie Potter's satisfied look from across the crowd and his heart dropped further. Behind her Kingsley and Gladys looked as confused as he felt. But Jamie Potter knew what was going on, adding to Harry's apprehension; he never liked being in the dark.

"Bianca…" Harry said in warning, trying to nod toward the guard. He had to make sure his suspicion was right that she had fallen in with her Aunt instead of him. He had to be certain that his blood had betrayed him – again.

"Achelous!" someone shouted from behind them.

Despite having the Death Stick shoved in his neck, Harry looked back to see Narcissa pushing through the shopping witches and wizards. She was dragging someone behind her. The crowd parted for her with confused exclamations. _Who is she bringing?_

The Order of the Phoenix and Narcissa entered the circle at the same time. The onlookers spread a little more to give them room. Then Harry noticed who Narcissa had with her.

Her arm and neck bandaged, dark circles under her eyes, and limp hair _another_ Bianca Potter appeared on the end of Narcissa's hand.

The red of the disarming charm shot from Jamie Potter's wand to Narcissa who deflected it with a blur of her own wand.

"Everyone stop!" the Bianca holding Harry at wand point commanded with such force that everyone _did_ freeze.

"Of course," Harry said. "How didn't I see it? You're unharmed. You don't even look like you were attacked by heliopaths or survived an assassination attempt at the Ministry. And that is why you were surprised that I knew of Bianca's special situation. She trusted you with her secret, didn't she? But she forgot to mention she had told her brother first. Am I correct, _Professor Dumbledore_?"

Everyone gasped and murmurs broke out in shock.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'm sorry," the real Bianca cried by Narcissa's side. Narcissa had her wand pointed at Jamie Potter, her face was furious.

"You are quite clever, but not clever enough not to be caught. In your defense, it is impossible to notice Alastor Moody when he is tracking someone. We shall be going now, Mr. Potter. You will come quietly. And, Narcissa, I am very disappointed you betrayed my trust." The fake Bianca's eyes had turned blue, and her strange voice became more like Albus Dumbledore's.

"My compliments on your acting," Harry bit out. "It seemed like you really cared for me. I'm sure the skill has helped you before."

Blue-eyed Bianca gave a self-deprecating laugh and shrug. "It is magic, dear boy. Polyjuice only allows one to take the physical form of another. But to fool you I had to become Miss Potter in body and spirit. A personality and emotional imprint from her soul allowed me to deceive you. Although, it is a tad hypocritical of you to accuse me of pretending care, when it is you who seduced Miss Potter with the pretense of brotherly love. I shall find out soon enough who you _really _are."

"You're not taking him anywhere!" Narcissa warned in a low voice. Bianca's wand joined Narcissa's in marking Dumbledore.

_So that is how he did it. That is how he tricked me. I should have been more careful. I knew he suspected me and I expected him to sit back and wait till I was under the roof of his castle to figure me out. I am a fool. _

"Bianca, drop your wand. This idiocy ends now." Jamie Potter shifted her wand's aim from Narcissa to her injured niece.

"You can't hurt him," Bianca stubbornly kept her wand aloft. "Let him go."

"He's not Harry, Bianca. Please," Hestia Jones' concerned voice joined in the stand off.

"I am. I swear on my magic and life I am Harry James Potter," Harry said. It seemed everyone held their breath to see if magic would destroy him for swearing a falsehood. But when a minute ticked by without any deserved retribution, they had to accept that he was who he said he was.

Kingsley stepped forward, flanked by Gladys. He held up a reconciliatory hand. "Let's stop before this situation escalates. I will need everyone to surrender their wands and come with me. I will arrest anyone who does not comply. Please, let's do this calmly and sensibly."

"Kingsley, that is Dumbledore you're talking to and _that_ is a Death Eater with my niece pointing their wands at him," Jamie Potter shot the idea down.

"Jamie, all I see is two people who could be Bianca Potter. One of them or maybe both of them are impersonating the real Girl-who-lived. You are also holding a child who has proven his identity beyond doubt at wand point; a boy every Auror has sworn to protect. Surrender your wand. You can have your say at the Auror Offices," Kingsley retorted with steel in his voice.

"Spare me, Kingsley. I've had it up to here with you Aurors making excuses for him. And that _is_ Headmaster Dumbledore." Jamie Potter belligerently shoved back Kingsley.

"_You_ have not been straight with us. You did not tell us this shopping trip was a charade to capture the Boy Who Lived. I cannot in good conscience let you do whatever in Merlin's name you're doing," Kingsley calmly returned, giving Jamie Potter the full brunt of his glare.

"Peace, Auror Shacklebolt. I truly am Albus Dumbledore." The fake Bianca transformed in front of their eyes to the tall form of Albus Dumbledore in stylishly extravagant robes. His wand did not waver from Harry's neck. "Trust me, young Mr. Potter is complicit in serious crimes. I was merely hoping that it wasn't him but someone who had stolen his visage or possessed him. It is more distressing that it is in reality _him_ who has violated our ancient laws."

Harry watched Kingsley lose his ground in the face of Dumbledore revealing himself. He was thinking hard of some way to get out of the mess without people getting hurt, but it didn't seem likely. Once the curses flew he couldn't protect everyone he cared for there. Bianca was his first priority, Narcissa second; he had promised to protect her too. He felt some responsibility for Gladys too, on account of blackmailing her so often. Kingsley was an old friend but he had to trust that he could take care of himself.

"Stand down, Auror Shacklebolt," a very familiar gravely voice ordered. From under an invisibility cloak Mad-Eye Moody appeared, wand pointing straight at Harry. Harry let out a small sigh at things getting more complicated.

"Belay that order, Auror," another old bass voice called out. On the side of Narcissa and Bianca, Auror Captain Wayne Rivers pushed through the crowd. Kingsley looked caught between a rock and a hard place, as the grizzled veteran aurors stared down each other.

"Rivers, you don't know what is happening here," Moody said quietly. "This is Dumbledore, your friend."

Old Wayne Rivers spat on the ground, his wand carefully pointed away from everyone. "I know a witch hunt when I see one, Moody." Wayne nodded to Shacklebolt. "The lad is right. We'll have to sort this out at the Ministry. Albus, be reasonable, the boy won't give you any trouble."

"Wayne, my old friend, I am afraid Alastor is correct. You are unaware of the circumstances," Dumbledore replied calmly with a smile through his deep auburn beard.

"Least ways, we can do this somewhere privately. Merlin's sake, Albus, we are in the middle of Diagon," Wayne Rivers pitched his voice low. His gray hair brushed forward over his rough spell-damaged cloak.

Harry observed the relatively youthful form of Albus Dumbledore, and it hit him why the powerful wizard was acting out of character. "He wants this to happen here. He wants to discredit me in public, so he can keep me away from my sister, or send me to Azkaban for whatever crimes he thinks I've committed. Sorry, Professor, I'm not that stupid," Harry said, and matched the blank look Dumbledore gave him. _Something is going to push this over the edge. _

"He said he's Harry, why won't you believe him?" Bianca suddenly shouted, nearly beside herself. Oddly it was Narcissa who put her hand on Bianca's shoulder to comfort her.

"Don't you worry, lass. I won't let anything happen to your brother. He put his life on the line for us," Wayne Rivers assured.

Bright flashes of camera bulbs went up around them. Harry noticed the press had arrived. There was jostling in the crowd for a front seat to the drama that was unfolding.

Moody attempted to sway Wayne Rivers again, "Rivers, you don't know what the child can do. We have to take him and question him."

"You think that _I_ don't know what he is capable of?" Wayne Rivers scoffed. "I reckon a child who survived a Killing Curse in front of my very eyes is capable of a lot, Moody. That is no grounds for suspicion. The Unspeakables have questioned him and found nothing."

"I am afraid, Wayne old friend, that this discussion is pointless. In interest of everyone's safety I am taking the boy to Hogwarts where he can lay our doubts to rest as he did for the Unspeakables. That is reasonable, is it not?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sounds like an ultimatum to me," Narcissa said. "You have no legal authority over him, Dumbledore."

Old Wayne Rivers coughed, interrupting politely. "Lady Malfoy has a point, Albus. Don't push this."

"I have legal authority over him," Jamie Potter said, shooting Wayne Rivers a vapid smile. "I'm his godmother. I will be taking him with me. It is high time he joined the family."

_Merlin's balls, I should've made myself a ward of the Ministry, _Harry cursed in his mind.

"No!" Narcissa immediately protested.

Wayne Rivers touched her arm lightly to restrain her. He shook his head at Jamie Potter. "It doesn't work like that. I am an Auror. I see you threatening a child. I can't simply let you walk away with him."

"I will vouch for her, Wayne. She is a light witch, she wouldn't harm a child," Dumbledore said.

Wayne Rivers let out a frustrated sigh. "Considerin' the circumstances, Albus, your word doesn't mean much. Your wand on an eleven year old boy's throat being those circumstances."

"I have seniority, Rivers, I am ordering you to stand down." Mad-eye Moody growled.

Wayned Rivers laughed. "Alastor, you joined two days before me. Don't give me horseshit about seniority. We're the same rank. A fine pair of friends you and Albus are turning out, trying to pull wool over my eyes."

"Please, he didn't do anything," Bianca begged, lowering her wand, appealing to both her Aunt and Dumbledore. Around them the crowd was being questioned by reporters, more cameras were flashing.

_Dumbledore has his circus, this has gone too far. _

"It would be best if you let me have my way on this, old friend. You know I have the best interest of our people at heart," Dumbledore said, sounding oddly pleased. He nodded toward the crowd.

Wayne Rivers and Harry looked around and saw the same thing. The ring of people around them had slowly been filled with the Order of the Phoenix. They stood here and there mingling, but were very alert.

"It has come to this?" Wayne Rivers asked quietly, the current of anger unmasked. Dumbledore simply inclined his head a fraction. Wayne Rivers lost, and along with him all the other Aurors besides Moody lost. "Very well, I will be following you to Hogwarts."

"That will not be necessary. Alastor Moody will be present to represent the Aurors. Good day, Wayne–"

_He knows what I've done. There will be no convincing him I am on the right side. This Dumbledore is not a man of reason. _Harry smiled. It was a relief. He wasn't going to play pretend anymore. There wasn't any reason left to be a child.

"I will not be coming, as you once said, quietly," Harry said. _Oriri Atrox!_

Dumbledore spelled a stunner but the red jet of light didn't hit Harry. Where Harry had been, only his cloak floated from Dumbledore's grip. Narcissa took the opportunity to send a blast of physical force at Jamie Potter. It pushed back Jamie, Shacklebolt, and Gladys.

Dumbledore leveled his wand at Narcissa, thunder rolled, white lightning shot from his wand like a serpent. It met a silver shield with the device of Gryffindor on it. Thunder died, silence pervaded like a force. It was so oppressive it cooled the magical battle.

The onlookers were frozen in caricatures of fear and shock. They had instinctively fallen back and now stared at the unbelievable sight.

An eleven year old boy faced the most powerful wizard of their age from behind a silver shield.

"Narcissa, Auror Rivers, please protect my sister. Bianca stay out of the way," Harry said with quiet authority. "It is time to settle this. You sent me to magic hating muggles, Dumbledore, and kept my family from me. I will not forgive you for this, and I won't have the blood of your pawns on my hands. This fight is between you and me." _If he wants to win the crowd, I won't make it easy for him. Have fun explaining abandoning an orphan to The Daily Prophet. _

Harry let the shield fade and squared his shoulders, readying himself for the duel. The gathered witches and wizards scuttled back, clearing out a large enough space for the combatants.

"I know the travesty you committed. I have been granted authority and power to see you undone. You are out of time," Dumbledore's double entendre was not lost on Harry. He wondered, however, who it was that gave Dumbledore the job to sniff out the time traveler.

The flagstones of the alley were dirty from all its patrons in their pre-school-year spending frenzy. The sudden emptiness heightened the tension of the dozens of wizards and witches flush against the shops. They watched the short and slight boy with his wand at his side; robes of an expensive cut making him seem like a spoiled lordling. Ahead of him stood their living legend, Albus Dumbledore, towering over him in both physical and magical stature. They expected humiliation for the boy, but some rooted for the child, hoping for a good fight.

Hidden from notice stood Quirrell, possessed, with a cruel and greedy gleam in his eye; he hoped they would both end each other.

A camera flashed – And it began.

Tree roots blasted out of the stone-worked ground of the alley. They struck like a tentacled monster, slicing through rock where they fell upon Harry. The dirt encrusted limbs reached for him faster than a heart beat, but their victim could not be touched.

Harry walked with his eyes shut, feeling for the magic animating the plants to harm him. He directed the magic in the roots to fall around him instead of at him. _Too many, I can't hold this up. I need an opening. _

More roots erupted from the ground tearing apart where he was standing. They flailed wildly. The air became thick with rock dust and monstrous killing roots.

Chips and shards of stone cut his skin and robes, but the murderous roots didn't come near him. He walked in a straight line toward Dumbledore, hoping the closer he got to his adversary the less wild the roots would become, lest they harm the one who was animating them.

Suddenly the roots attacking him caught fire. He gasped at the heat from the viciously undulating inflamed whips. Dumbledore had seen through his strategy. _God, there are innocents here, if I let loose my power they will - _Harry didn't get to complete his thought as his air was cut short. The fiery roots had formed a closed burning ball around him, eating away his oxygen.

* * *

Bianca had flinched away from the heat like everyone else. Terrified for her brother she watched the writhing ball of inflamed roots, praying that Harry would make it. She put her faith in Narcissa Malfoy's words, as much as it galled her. She had told her that Harry had knowledge of the future and was very powerful because of it.

Just as suddenly the fire had appeared, intense cold gripped them all. Bianca couldn't breathe in, her mouth opened like a guppy but there was no air. Auror Captain Wayne Rivers touched her cheek with his wand, charming an air bubble on her. She breathed in relief, and noticed the spherical tomb Dumbledore had created for Harry had lost its flames.

"Some kind of charm creating a vacuum. Thank Merlin, he let it up," Wayne Rivers commented.

Dumbledore made a negligent motion with his wand. The roots closed in on Harry, shrinking the ball to crush him.

"My God," Bianca screamed rushing forward.

The roots exploded, pulverized into dust. Bianca felt someone throw her down and cover her. She struggled up to see it was Narcissa Malfoy who had protected her. The dark witch had a fierce smile on her face. "Trust your brother, look!" She pointed.

Bianca allowed herself to be pulled back when she saw Harry alive. He was bleeding and his robes were torn, but he didn't look too bad. She turned her head to see what Dumbledore was doing only to find him stunned. In another moment the great wizard made a wide waving wand movement to attack.

Harry spread his arms wide and opened his mouth. The way he looked she expected him to scream defiantly. She expected he had chosen to take whatever spell Dumbledore was casting head on without a shield. Her blood chilled, fearing Harry would die for his bravado.

She never expected that her brother was attacking. The earth quaked, shop windows shivered, something intangible hurtled at Dumbledore from her brother.

Dumbledore drew a pentacle of blue light in the air to shield himself. The unseen curse struck the pentacle; Dumbledore went down on one knee, his hand and wand out trying to hold the shield.

Sound exploded. A thousand lions roared from Harry's throat.

Bianca slapped her hands on her ears, her eyes ached. She saw wizards and witches fall to the ground, cowering and huddling against the magical roar.

"_Stop it, stop it, stop it. Make it stop!"_ she screamed but couldn't even hear herself. Around her, others were crying out too, but it was as if they were mutes trying to speak in vain.

The roaring didn't stop; it became louder, somehow entering her body and shaking her bones. Her heart skipped beats, making her feel like it was stuttering. She buried herself against the body behind her. Narcissa's golden head came down on her shoulder holding her close. The dark witch's ears were bleeding but instead of protecting herself she was doing like her brother had commanded, protecting Bianca instead. Bianca didn't understand how a Death Eater could sacrifice herself so much for her, but she didn't think for too long. Like everyone else she was trying to survive her brother's attack on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was on both knees now, his auburn hair and beard swayed freely behind him as the sound tore at him. The blue lit pentacle shield flared and shone but couldn't fully stop the attack. He was holding the wand with both hands; his lips were pulled back from his teeth, giving him a maniacal desperate look that terrified Bianca in its own right.

On the other side her brother stood shaking the earth and their very souls, his face crazed with power like Dumbledore. Frayed thoughts of fear and prayer rushed through Bianca's mind as she began to lose consciousness. Narcissa's heavy weight on her told her protector had already succumbed and fainted.

Her brother fell to his knees too, but his eyes were focused on Dumbledore. Behind him she thought she saw the form of something appearing. Something had its claws in Harry's shoulders and had its great maw open just like Harry's mouth. Saliva dripped from Harry's teeth in reflection of the creature over him. The shape took full form to show a giant ethereal griffin roaring.

The thousand lion roar coming from Harry deepened and narrowed focusing on Dumbledore. For a moment Bianca thought she was going to die but then Dumbledore's pentacle in the air flared once and burned out. She had a glimpse of hair, skin, and clothes being torn off from Dumbledore's form, before he was blasted off his knees. The most powerful wizard in the world was tossed to Gringotts' white columns.

Silence fell, only punctuated by moans from those who hadn't lost their voices screaming their throats out. Bianca tried to shake out of Narcissa's hold to go to Harry who was panting on all fours. She saw the griffin retract its claws from Harry's shoulders and disappear. For all that Harry didn't seem to notice a gigantic creature had pierced him.

"Stay," Auror River's commanded in a constricted voice. He put a hand on Bianca's arm. "Cursed Morgana, was that Godric's Challenge?"

"Harry?" Bianca called, surprised to hear how hoarse her voice was. He stood, stumbling a little, and held up a hand.

"It's not over. And yes, Captain River, that was Godric's Challenge," Harry said walking forward. He suddenly flinched back, but then jumped forward, and then he let out a cry and ducked. Bianca heard a clang of metal just as Harry rolled sideways.

"How do you keep surviving?" Dumbledore asked, appearing in view, walking with a limp toward Harry. Harry kept rolling, ducking, and weaving out of the way of something invisible. Bianca was shocked to see the Headmaster walking under his own power.

"Reveal yourself!" Harry ordered. Two incredibly tall, cloaked, and hooded people appeared around him, carrying wicked scythes. Bianca finally saw that it was the curved blades her brother had been dodging. "Ha!" Harry exclaimed in triumph and suddenly stopped moving.

His hand slipped inside his collar and gripped something. One scythe swung at his throat, the other at the back of his neck. Both stopped when they touched his skin, a small trickle of blood dripped over the wide arching blades and fell to the ground. Bianca remembered to breathe again as Harry bared his teeth at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's typically perfect robes were shredded, skin was flayed off his face and hands, and tufts of hair were missing from his head and chin. He had lost his half-moon glasses. His blue eyes were colder and angrier than she remembered in either life.

"How?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Be gone, my death does not call you," Harry said in reply and the two grim reapers disappeared with their weapons. "How I could beat the shield created from the unbeatable wand, call off assassins conjured by the one who tamed the Elder Wand? I won't tell you. Know this: you will not win against me in mastery of the Hallows."

The slight smile on Dumbledore's injured face looked sinister. "I assure you, that contest will not be necessary." He raised his wand but Harry beat him to it.

Purple fire forked from Harry's wand but passed right through Dumbledore's form.

"_Behind you!" _Bianca cried.

Bianca thrashed like an animal in Narcissa's grip as she watched Harry whirl around too slow to raise a shield. Dumbledore stood behind him, the spell from his wand as black as the Death Stick struck Harry in the chest. Harry stood as if petrified, cracks appeared over him and he shattered like glass. Pieces of him rained amidst Bianca's terrorized screams.

Bianca finally escaped and fell to the ground cradling Harry's pieces. Her face was blank in bleak desolation. The pieces of her brother felt like glass, smooth and sharp edged. With trembling hands she tried to put him back together, aligning the pieces.

"Dumbledore, what _have_ you done?" Wayne Rivers asked in a hushed voice. He _enervated_ Narcissa Malfoy, waking her up. The witch went straight to Bianca who was gathering Harry's pieces with single minded intensity.

"Albus Dumbledore, you are under arrest for the murder of Harry James Potter!" Kingsley strode on the field of battle, his wand raised unwaveringly, and face twisted in anger.

"Murder?" Narcissa croaked. "No, no, he can't be dead. He's not dead. Bianca, _Bianca!_" she shook the little girl's shoulder.

"Gentleman, gentleman, things are not as they seem." Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh, looking sadly at the pieces of the boy strewn around him. "This was sadly necessary," he said gravely, his face pinched in apparent sorrow. "Mr. Potter was not who you thought him to be," he tried to placate them. "He had violated Time's sanctity."

Narcissa was kneeling next to Bianca when she thought she saw something. She leaned close to the pieces Bianca had gathered. There it was again!

"Bianca," she whispered. "Look at that."

A broken piece of Harry's face with half his eye on it winked at them both. Bianca let out a sob, while Narcissa hid her relieved smile lest she give her master away.

In silence ornately framed mirrors rose up out of the churned up stonework of Diagon Alley's floor. The setting sun's rays gleamed on their carved silver surfaces. Wizards and witches quieted to watch the strange phenomena of towering mirrors flanking the sides of the alley like an inanimate honor guard.

"What magic is this?" Alastor Moody asked, spinning on his clawed foot, trying to cover all angles.

"Magic of mirrors, Mad-Eye. Oldest magic in the world," Harry Potter answered, stepping out of the shining surface of a mirror right beside Bianca. She looked at him in stunned disbelief then leapt into his open arms.

Harry Potter stepped out of every mirror lining the Alley, until there were dozens of him encircling Dumbledore.

Bianca looked in the face of the brother holding him. "What's going on? Is this an illusion?"

He smiled at her. "That would be telling, and Professor Dumbledore is eavesdropping."

Mad-Eye Moody cursed. He hexed a mirror close to him, shattering it, leaving only the frame behind. The Doppelgangers smiled at him, "It wouldn't be that easy Mad-Eye." And then they attacked.

Lightning crashed down from the sky, the ground opened showing rows of sharp teeth, and curses flew at Dumbledore from all sides. Wayne Rivers dragged Moody away from the fray.

Bianca kept her hold tight on the brother in her arms as she watched Dumbledore and her brothers disappear into a plume of dust, ash, and smoke. Lightning crackled in and outside the cloud of volcanic like explosion. Shop windows burst out, covering the bystanders in sharp glass.

The brother holding her put up a shield to protect them. Every able bodied wizard and witch did the same with varying degrees of success. They all cowered before the cloud of shadow and electricity erupting from the magical battle between Albus Dumbledore and the many Harry Potter.

"Cease!" Bianca heard the one holding her command. Somehow his voice cut through the maelstrom.

Slowly, gradually, the dust lifted. It showed Bianca the soot covered bleeding faces of the crowd which had so eagerly stood by to watch the duel. No one looked excited anymore. They all had the look of shocked and dazed children.

From the clearing smoke she saw a version of her brother come through, cradling his arm and two deep lacerations across his chest.

"It's ugly, you better start healing now. We are all cursed," he told the brother holding her.

"Dumbledore?" her brother asked.

"Alive. Barely. I didn't have the heart to kill him," the brother cradling his arm answered. "Can you restore the mirrors?"

In a moment the broken or dust covered mirrors gleamed anew. Bianca saw the many dozen versions of her brother enter their mirrors and disappear. Each mirror took one reflection inside it and slipped into the earth, burying itself. It took her a moment to realize that whenever a version of her brother crossed into the mirror, his wounds would be transferred to the one holding him. As many versions of Harry Potter there had been, not one had escaped unscathed. Dumbledore had punished their bodies viciously.

"Harry, are you okay. You can't take all their curses," she asked him worriedly, wiping the blood that had appeared on his body. He felt warm to her, too warm, it was as if he was burning under her skin.

"Don't worry, my magic will heal it. Do I feel hot to touch?" he asked.

"Y-yes."

"It is a side effect of healing spells. Don't worry, I'll survive. Stand with Narcissa, I have to go finish this," he said to her. Bianca let him go only to see him enveloped in Narcissa's embrace. Jealousy won over confusion of why a Death Eater was hugging her brother. She saw Harry hug her back and place a kiss on her dirt streaked face.

She ignored his order to stay by Narcissa and followed him when he slid down the gouged trench where his reflections had been fighting Dumbledore. Bianca slapped her hand on her mouth to hide her horror. The most powerful man she knew was slumped against one wall of the gutted Alley, his leg was torn off above his knee. The one side of his face was charred, twisted, and he wheezed and whistled like an asthmatic. The long auburn hair was matted with blood and grime to his head and body. One eye, electric blue, still shone with power and followed Harry's descent.

It hit her with physical force that it was _her brother_ who had done this to the great Albus Dumbledore. The rancid smell coming from the Headmaster's burned body only made that realization more difficult to handle.

"Stay back," the defeater of Grindelwald commanded his Order when they tried to come to his aid. "This is indeed _my_ fight."

Bianca stopped a ways back, not wanting to see Dumbledore any clearer than she already could. Her brother walked on, coming to stand only five paces from the defeated wizard. From behind she finally noticed in the flames that her brother's robes were soaked in blood and that his motions were jerky, as if he was in great pain.

* * *

"It is done, Albus Dumbledore. Do you yield?" Harry asked, with his wand at his side. Dried blood caked his lips and neck.

"They warned me about you; those who keep measure and scale of the worlds. But I did not expect this," Dumbledore answered, ignoring his question. Harry became apprehensive; the Sirens had told them he had provoked those entities. He hadn't thought they would speak to Dumbledore, but now he knew who had told his old mentor to hunt him.

"We both underestimated each other. _Do you yield?"_ Harry demanded, pointing his wand at the cursed wizard. The sweet and sour smell of burned flesh and hair coming from Dumbledore repulsed him.

"I recognize your power, Harry Potter. I have felt it before, once, deep in the Department of Mysteries. Do you know of it?" Dumbledore asked.

_He's losing it,_ Harry thought to himself.

"Yes, I do. Yield, Dumbledore, be honorable," Harry advised.

Dumbledore laughed quietly, his breath wheezed. "Yield? No. You see even that most terrible power of yours needs a place to exist and a time to be. In so much as that, Harry Potter, I've been given to command a greater power than you."

Harry frowned. "What are you - " Before he could finish his words Dumbledore had raised his wand and snarled something unintelligible. The strain of whatever spell he'd cast stretched his face in even more agony.

Harry raised a shield, but the hazy spell from Dumbledore's wand did not stop. Harry sent a stunner and the red light met spreading haze midair and simply curled away from Dumbledore. He hexed and cursed, but the jets of light slowed so much it seemed there was an infinite distance between Harry and Dumbledore that the magic could not hope to cross.

_Time and space? Does he actually have magic to command those? _Harry thought frantically. _It's taking everything out of him, if I can just wait him out…But how much did the Keepers of the Worlds give him. _

Harry backed away, only to feel as if he was trying to walk backwards in quicksand. Time slowed for him, a centimeter of movement took eternal minutes. He began to panic as the haze began to cover him. Dumbledore was pale from blood loss, and his one good eye was out of focus. _He's killing himself to end me. _Harry began to see darkness at the edge of his vision. His body was becoming transparent, and was stretching out impossibly in all directions. His thoughts were too sluggish to do anything; his secret power had no direction.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, sounding as if he was forming words at his death bed. "I expel your from time and space!"

The haze coalesced into a blinding white pylon above him, striking down at him like the inevitable. At the very last moment, his sister, Bianca jumped on him to shield him.

It was too late.

The tower of light impaled them both.

And then they were no more.

* * *

_**Where are our heroes now?**_

**By Earnest. D. Magogue for The Daily Prophet.**

_It is three months since twins-who-lived were murdered by Albus Dumbledore. In three months our best Unspeakables have been unable to find traces of their bodies. We dare not drag our criminal Chief Warlocke to court for fear that he is our last chance. When specters of the past, spoken only in hushed voices, and seen in nightmares like the Hidden Hand walk amongst us, what more can we do? Our convalescent Grand Sorcerer dares not show his face in public since he killed two children, the twain hopes of Magical Britain. _

_Our nation faces the choice between justice and survival. I for one will side with justice and not let fear guide me to choose a lesser tyrant over a dark lord. We must unite behind the Aurors and untie their hands. Let them arrest Albus Dumbledore, let him stand trial next to his minion Jamie Potter, who let her brother's child be murdered without lifting her wand in his defense. _

_It is time to join our nation's defenders. It is time to serve in the Department of Magical Enforcement. _

_Our twain hopes are in our memories. Let us honor them. Let us fight for them. In our struggle and sacrifice they will live on. And we will know where our true heroes are; in our hearts.

* * *

  
_

Epilogue:~

Clashing steel, war cries, bloody gurgles roused Harry. He looked around blearily, seeing goblins fighting each other with swords, spears, and axes. Someone was dragging him back. He lolled his head up to see Bianca's wild eyes looking all around them. She was pulling him to safety behind trees.

"Are we in a forest?" he asked calmly.

"Harry! Shh! They might hear us," Bianca said in a harsh whisper. "I think we're in the middle of goblin rebellion."

Harry sighed. "Fucking Goblins."

And then he fell asleep, trusting his sister to take care of him.

* * *

**THE END**

Afterword:

I know this was out of the blue, but it also made sense to me. Dumbledore had found Harry's blood at Azkaban, he knew Harry wasn't born magical, and had spies on him in the form of unsuspecting Tonks, invisible!Jamie Potter, and Moody. Somehow, I thought the colder Dumbledore of this dimension wouldn't sit on his hands to act when he started finding out all the things Harry was up to.

Plus I always hate time travel fics where there are no repercussions. And when they are, they usually are at the end of the story when everything in the AU world is resolved. The abrupt attack in the middle of all the plots intertwining felt right. Since I had foreshadowed with the Sirens warning Harry about "Those who keep scale and measure of the worlds" in an earlier chapter, I wanted them to make a strike. What better champion for the Keepers than the leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore?

Oh, and don't you worry. I wouldn't have emphasized Harry's promises to Narcissa and Astoria Greengrass so much if they were out of the story. A sequel will happen when I feel like it. I have ideas, but this is a complete arc. So think of this as Catharsis, Book 1 or Arc 1.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sequel - Catharsis**

A.N. This story remains me blow-off-steam project. Take it as such. Story continues directly from the ending of the first arc. Thanks to 'Johnny Farrar' of DLP for edits.

James Potter stood in front of the bookshelf pretending he was perusing the titles. In the waning light of day he couldn't see much of the names of the old tomes, but it was a necessary act to cover he was waiting to assist his hostess. For some years now her house was the place he felt most at ease, including his own home. With a negligent wave of his hand the candles in the study lit up.

"Thank you, James," he heard his hostess as she entered through a side door.

"Madam Dumbledore," he greeted, quickly walking behind her to push her wheelchair into the room.

"Tut, tut, I am perfectly capable, thank you," the old woman said with good humor. Gray hair with some streaks of black remaining fell on her shoulders. Her blue eyes seemed extraordinarily bright against her aged and papery skin. The slender face still hinted of a kindly beauty. "Tea?" she asked.

"I have it ready," James answered, handing her a cup. She smiled indulgently up at him and took it graciously.

James seated himself across from her on a chair older than his hostess. He took pleasure in the warmth of the teacup in his hands as the familiar ritual helped him escape his troubles. Still quite young at thirty-three he felt much older for his age. Sometimes he felt he was perpetually fatigued. It was a wonder to him his hair hadn't turned gray yet. The expectations of everyone around him had become more and more difficult to live up to every year. The companionship of Ariana Dumbledore was his only relief.

"I presume you are coming from a meeting with my brother?" the old woman asked, breaking their comfortable silence.

James nodded. "Yes. He asked me again if there was something I wanted to tell him." He played with the teaspoon in contemplation. "I suppose it is that time of the year again."

Ariana Dumbledore nodded twice quickly as she was wont to do when about to give something her full attention. She stretched her arm to set her tea on the table but James reached across quickly to take it from her. She sighed a little at being treated like an invalid but bore it as patiently as she had for nearly two decades.

"My brother is nothing if not observant. I am sure he was waiting for the end of May to pass, as I was," she said while looking out the window at the night sky. She knew well enough that James didn't like being asked questions directly. She could feel his discomfiture and restrained from prompting him.

James put his tea aside, having lost the pleasure in it. "…Lily is alright," he finally said.

Despite knowing better, Ariana pressed him, she had been anxiously awaiting news of this. "She did not become melancholy or secretive?"

"No. But I don't know if I should be happy or worried," James confessed abruptly.

Ariana was taken aback. As comfortable as the young wizard was with her, it was an exercise in tact and patience usually to get him to share anything about Lily. "James, my son, you should be ecstatic. If Lily has stopped obsessing about that false memory then she can live life fully, and it is no longer a strain on your relationship. Are your daughters not happier?"

James met the clear eyes of his confidant with deep sadness. "It feels false."

Ariana Dumbledore slapped her forehead in exasperation. "Why can't you ever be happy? You wear this damned cloak of fear and guilt. Your wife is safe from my brother's inquisitiveness. She is free from knowledge of the secret he wishes to protect. Make your peace, James."

James Potter hung his head but not in shame. He simply didn't want the woman he held in high regard to see how much she had angered him. She should have known better than to speak of his affairs like that but he had burdened her with his worries for too many years to now become prickly.

"I am thankful that you charmed her memory, Madam Dumbledore. You and I both know it was getting difficult to hide from Professor Dumbledore that _his_ memory charm had failed so many years ago," James paused to weigh if he should reveal what had been really bothering him, in the end he shared as he always did with her. He wet his lips before saying, "What if what Lily remembered wasn't a lie…what if she was right?"

Ariana Dumbledore's face fell and she felt any patience in her evaporate. She gave James Potter the look her brothers said was the only time she looked like their mother; it wasn't a compliment. "James," she said softly in warning.

"I know, I know," James held up his hands in defeat.

"I am not finished, son," Ariana Dumbledore continued in her soft tone. "For how many years did the taint of that year affect Lily? For how many years you lived in fear that Albus would discover Lily secretly bore animosity for him? I only agreed to help you after I couldn't see you or her suffer year in and year out anymore, and I did not want Albus to do something regrettable for her own good." Ariana Dumbledore wiped her forehead, trying to physically remove her tension. It had been a long time since she had become so angry. "Do _not_ start thinking dangerous thoughts."

James Potter had been massaging his temples through Ariana Dumbledore's reproach. Uncertainty gripped him as he was plagued by second thoughts. Internally he scoffed at what people would think if they knew how unsure he was of himself. They only saw the man who had defeated Lord Voldemort and thought he was invincible. Little did they know he had no idea what had happened the night of the Dark Lord's fall.

"It was part of her for so long, I'm afraid what we did is just temporary. I keep waiting for her to break through the memory charm again. I know Lily is powerful, but to be powerful enough to shred Professor Dumbledore's magic?" James looked askance to Ariana.

Ariana stoically resisted reminding James they had already had this discussion. If no magic worked on her legs she wasn't shocked that magic on Lily's mind failed as well; both had been attacked by the same thing. Instead she said, "Lily is a remarkable witch. You two are matched well. Go home to her; make some happy memories with her and your daughters."

James nodded without looking at her and stood up. "I actually have some news for you. It's about the forgotten case."

Ariana's frustration disappeared in a second. "You have found something?" she asked eagerly.

James shrugged. "A hint of something. We might need to bring others of the Order into this."

"Not until we are sure, James, it is too dangerous," Ariana warned clutching the arms of her wheel chair. "Tell me."

"One of Sirius's reconnaissance Aurors was captured by the rebelling goblin factions. He escaped only yesterday. While in their cells he swears he heard the voices of human children, he also overheard the guards complain about the 'wizard brats.' What is really bizarre is the story of his escape…he claims he was let go by a drunken goblin. He was taken from his cell and marched out and then told to get lost because he stank." James shrugged into his cloak and put on his hat. "We need more information," he concluded. "We will be going in tonight."

Ariana Dumbledore nodded sharply twice. "Don't let the Longbottoms hear of this. I still think we should have obliviated them like the rest about what happened. What did Albus say?"

"I didn't remember to tell him. I was busy dodging his questions about Lily," said James.

"It will be wonderful if it is them, James, Merlin I so hope it is them." Ariana smiled wistfully. "They should all be ready to start Hogwarts this year."

James shook his head sadly. "It has already been eleven years since they were kidnapped? It is too cruel."

"It is," Ariana said with fury. "Find my granddaughter, James. Find her!" Tears leaked from the old woman's eyes and her hand trembled when she wiped them.

James leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I haven't let up once. We will find them. We will find all the children who Voldemort took."

* * *

When Harry came to he was propped against the trunk of a tree with the uncomfortable feeling of drool on his face. He moaned in pain when he moved to wipe the spittle. Bianca made a shushing motion and he finally noticed her crouching by his side with her wand outstretched. His eyes widened as he noticed a squad of goblins in their clunky but ornate armor walk past their spot. Their beady eyes were searching but somehow kept missing them.

Harry tried reaching for his wand but his hand felt like it was detached and numb. Fever made his vision swim a little and he thought it best to stay still. The thought of trusting in luck and his fifteen year old sister didn't fill him with too much confidence but he had little choice. The curses and wounds Dumbledore had left on him were not easy to recover from without aid.

He had drifted off without realizing and came around with a start when Bianca shook him awake. She looked worn to him even through his hazy vision. She was kneeling next to him with a bladder of water she brought to his lips. He drank from it greedily. After that she broke off morsels of bread and fed him. He tried to take the food from her hands but didn't even have the energy to raise his hands off his lap. It was beginning to frighten him.

"What shield…" he trailed off too weak to speak. He wanted to tell her normal shields and notice-me-not charms didn't work with goblins long if they decided to use their talismans. She just shushed him and went back to ministering him. _They will have them, one of them will have a talisman, it's only a matter of time they find us, _he wanted to say but couldn't get his tongue to obey him.

"Harry, if you really are Harry. We have to get to St. Mungo's. I can't – I don't know what to do. I'm going to levitate you," Bianca said getting to her feet.

Harry's head lolled to the left as he tried to shake it, he only managed to ground out a no. "Mungo's…enemies…danger…wait."

"You will die, I'm not going to let that happen again," said Bianca. To Harry's ears she was too loud and desperate. He wanted to call his secret power but had no idea if he could control it in his weakened state. If he was alone he would have risked it, but he could not put his sister in danger.

"Leave me. Run," said Harry. He saw a flash of anger in her hazel eyes and knew it would not work.

He was expecting her to say something painfully heroic but just then there was an explosion. Magical light burst over the copse of trees they were hiding in and the angered screams of goblins filled the air.

"Oh, fuck me," swore Bianca. Harry was yet again troubled hearing such words come out of an eleven-year-old's mouth. He couldn't help agree with her when the unmistakable sounds of armor started coming towards them.

Bianca moved so she was standing over him in a protective stance. Her robes and cloak were dirty as was the back of her head he could see. He was very afraid for her and cursing his condition. Someone who didn't know how goblins fought was vulnerable. The creatures had spent centuries learning to outwit those with more magical power than them. Wizards, outside of when a rebellion was on their hands, did not work too hard to be prepared for goblins.

Her wand was moving and she was spelling under her breath. His eyes throbbed in pain but he tried to stay conscious. In another few heartbeats the goblin horde was upon them. The word 'retreat' came through to Harry in Gobbledygook. For a few seconds Bianca's notice-me-not charms held before some goblin with a talisman passed close enough to their circle to get a hint that something was there.

Harry knew what came next, they would blindly attack the area they knew someone was hiding in but couldn't quite see. The retreating goblins launched arrows and spears in the spot Bianca and Harry were hiding. As sudden the attack was Bianca was prepared for it, her shields repelled the weapons back. She shouted a spell that caused explosions in a circle around them. Goblins screamed in rage as they were thrown away. With dismay Harry realized Bianca's attacks were not lethal. She did not understand what she was up against. She was simply buying time.

The adrenaline rush from being attacked went a long way for his body to respond to him. Harry was able to grab his wand and at least stand while propping himself against the tree. Seeing him move Bianca yelled at him to stay down and moved to cover him with her body. The goblins had redoubled their attack on the area around the tree they had their back to. Bianca could only shield now. Harry gained some hope when he saw that she was using shields far more advanced than the average witch or wizard would use. It was the only thing that was keeping the enchanted weaponry of the goblins from reaching them.

Weakly he pointed his wand at a number of the armored creatures hiding behind trees and cast a curse. It went off target and only made him feel more drained. In answer the goblins snuffed the lights they were carrying. It was all dark in the copse but for the glint of steel right before Bianca's shield repelled it or the steel cut through.

Bianca was moving swiftly around him, intercepting anything that was aimed at him. She already had a gash in her side and on one arm; wounds she had received protecting him. The goblins were no longer using light and taking the advantage of nightfall to hide from her. It was only the whistle of arrows or 'thwack' of a spear hitting their tree that warned them of an attack.

The attacks were coming in a steady pattern from all sides. Harry knew they were being kept distracted till the goblins amassed enough of a force of their wizard-killers. They would move in close with their enchanted swords and knives, much more potent than the arrows and spears. The more metal and jewels on a weapon the better they could use their magic on it to disrupt wand magic.

Bianca was breathing hard and her movements were becoming sloppy, he could feel her stumbling from side to side. Frustration and anger was boiling inside him, leaving little sanity along with what the fever was doing to him. He'd lost his whole family, she was the only one left, and he couldn't fail her too.

"Bianca!" He grabbed her cloak with Herculean effort. "Andros shield, now!"He wrapped his arms around her middle and leaned on her. In his mind he prayed and cast his spell. _Orori Atrox._

_

* * *

  
_

James Potter stood on the small hill looking down in the valley where the goblins had gathered. Only a few of the Order who were under his direct command were on this mission. Sirius was running interference at the Ministry, and Remus had taken point. James was waiting in the reserves.

As soon as the sun had set he had given his go ahead. Out of necessity James had to use the less experienced Order members for the mission to watch Remus's back. They had made a mistake immediately. The alarm had gone up, but strangely instead of staying and fighting one of the factions had decided to run away immediately, clashing with the other which wanted to stay and fight. It was in James's favor that the goblins just leave. But it didn't make sense for them to run away, since they outnumbered the wizards in their camp. It made him uneasy; it all smelled of a trap.

Fifteen minutes into the infiltration Remus's patronus ran up the hill to him to report that he did indeed find children and had secured them. In another minute the patronus came back.

"James…it's them. We've found them," the patronus said and disappeared. James felt as if he had suddenly grown wings as he felt relief and joy take him. There was no doubt from Remus's tone who he was talking about. It was the Order's children Death Eaters had stolen eleven years ago after obliviating them of their existence. They were the forgotten ones.

Only a select few knew the terrible secret, because Dumbledore had allowed most of the parents to remain obliviated. James knew what would come next, after the wonderful reunions of parents and children, the Order would split. But he couldn't think of that now, he had to make sure everyone was safe. Below things seemed to be getting worse, the group who wanted to stay and fight were cutting through the goblins running away and were rushing the caves. He sent a quick message to the Order members to port-key away.

Just as he was about to go down and join the fray light exploded in the night opposite from the cave cells Remus and his team had infiltrated. It burned in his retinas even as he tried to shield his eyes. A great dome of a magical shield had appeared inside a copse of trees through which the goblins had been running away. Terrible shrieks soon followed as the shield continued to grow, within seconds enveloping the trees into its violent white light.

"Bloody Hell! That isn't goblin magic!" James swore. A goblin which was running into the trees about turned but not fast enough, the white light caught him and twisted his body as it was repelled.

There was a crack behind him. Sirius Black appeared in a flurry of heavy Auror's robes with his wand at the ready.

"The fuck, Prongs, I told you 'low profile!' The scouts got back to the department with a critical magic event report. Crouch has ordered a full scale attack in five minutes!" Sirius shouted.

"It's not us," James retorted, equally angry and worried that the Ministry was about to descend on them. "Tell me doesn't that look like an Andros shield?"

Sirius surveyed the dome while shielding his eyes. "It has layers like an Andros shield, but it can't be one, mate. I don't know anyone who can cast one bigger than their body. Too much power needed. Get out now. If it's not our people then it might be the Death Eaters. Either way Crouch shouldn't find you here."

James's eyes were fixed on the shield. "It is receding. I will apparate out before the Ministry gets here, but I have to look." With that he popped away towards the source of the dome.

"God damn it, Potter!" Sirius swore behind him. He surveyed the goblins in disarray between the caves and the dome and hoped the Order team had already made it out. He followed his old friend and lashed out as soon as he landed by the panicked goblins. Running into the trees he soon saw James's back.

James raised his hand when he looked over his shoulder to find Sirius there. Getting the signal Sirius crept closer quietly. The shield had receded to the point it was circling around two children standing against a tree. Crumpled and twisted goblin bodies were strewn around.

"Shit, Remus didn't find these two. Sirius we have to get them out before the Ministry gets here." James turned to him.

Sirius shook his head. "No time, James. You need to leave now! Otherwise the Order will be compromised. Do they resemble like anyone we know?" he asked trying to peer through the bright shield.

"All I can tell is that there are two of them. Can't see through this shield…What about you?" James asked walking to the perimeter of the shield.

Suddenly there was a cacophony of cracks around them. Sirius motioned urgently to James. His friend apparated away before any Hit Wizards or Aurors made it to them. Sounds of spell fire were not far behind the sounds of multiple apparations. The Ministry was here to wipe out the rebelling goblins. The battle had been joined.

The shield had been getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared. It left behind a small girl with a boy draped around her back hugging her from behind. To Sirius it looked like he was asleep. The girl had a wild look on her face, she was bleeding from several places, but her wand was unnervingly pointed steadily at him.

Sirius raised his hands in a calming gesture. "It's alright. You're safe now. I'm an Auror. You can put the wand down now."

"No," the girl said. She had one hand clutching tightly the boy's arm wrapped around her middle and she started backing away.

Sirius stepped forward. "I'm here to help-"

"Then make me a portkey to St. Mungo's," the girl said suddenly stopping.

Sirius was taken aback by the gall of the girl but his lips twitched in a smile despite himself. He had to somehow get the girl and boy out of there before anyone else from the Ministry saw them. "Alright, I'll make you a portkey. I just want you to be safe."

The girl's wand never left his center mass, and she looked anything but convinced by his soothing voice.

"Say the spell out loud, I don't want you to send us somewhere else," she demanded, finally making a move towards him.

"You know the incantation for it?" Sirius asked surprised. The girl simply looked at him. He found the little child very annoying, on top of which her familiar eyes were worrying him. Logically he knew that she was the child of someone from the Order who had been abducted as a baby but he just couldn't place her. He had been expecting to instantly recognize the traits of the parents. Besides himself he couldn't think of anyone who had as much cheek as her. For a moment the thought that she might be his made his stomach drop.

She was six feet away from him by then and he was kneeling to charm a rock when someone came through the trees to them. The girl backed away as fast as she could with the boy she was dragging behind her.

"I received a message you required back up," Kingsley said a second before Sirius would have stunned him.

"Just watch my back, have to get these kids out," Sirius said in relief that it was an ally; even if Kingsley wasn't privy to the forgotten case.

When he turned back to the stone he found the girl was back to the tree and steadily creeping away with her wand trained now on him and now on Kingsley. Her eyes said it all, she was terrified.

"It's alright, he's a friend. He won't hurt you. Come on, we should go to St. Mungo's," said Sirius urgently.

The girl shook her head. "I'm not going back. You won't take him from me. You're from the Order. You lied to me, you all lie. Stay away!"

Sirius shared a shocked glance with Kingsley. "We're just here to help," said Sirius inching toward her.

In answer the girl disillusioned herself and the boy. The last glimpse Sirius had of them was her moving further into the trees.

Kingsley strode forward. "Miss we can hear you, and I can see where you're walking. I give you my word I will not hurt you. You are hurt, let us assist you." For his trouble a bolt of red light came at Kingsley which he quickly shielded himself from. "Sirius I don't think she's hearing us. How does she know about the Order?"

Sirius strode up next to the taller man. Kingsley was not part of the small circle of people who knew who these children were and what had happened to them. He couldn't share his thoughts that the Death Eaters had probably brainwashed the girl. It sickened him that the child of one of his friends from the Order was afraid of them. "I don't know, but we don't have much time, stun her and take her before the Ministry gets to them or the goblins. At least that boy with her is out."

The tall man beside him grumbled. "She is fairly bent on protecting him. I would rather not force her. But we have little time." Kingsley nodded to the left moving quickly in that direction.

Sirius understood and went after the girl knowing Kingsley would circle around to cut her off. She hadn't gotten far; he could see the tracks in the underbrush. He could not hear her anymore however. He guessed she had cast a moving silencing charm; a remarkable achievement for such a young witch. The thought that it was her who had cast the Andros shield made him extremely wary. She shouldn't even have a wand, let alone be able to cast a shield on the final year's syllabus of Auror College.

After five minutes he felt a standard trapping jinx go up. Sirius cast his own jinx to reinforce Kingsley's. Now the girl and the boy she was dragging around were trapped in a rough circle.

"Oh _fuck_ you!" the little girl's enraged oath rend the relative quiet under the trees.

Sirius shook his head in dismay. "And this is why Death Eaters shouldn't be allowed to raise sweet little girls."

A few minutes later Sirius heard someone running and readied himself. The girl burst out of the bushes in front of him. The look on her face was anything but sweet. Her eyes were intense and filled with purpose. She slashed her wand in the air sending two severing hexes straight at his chest. Before he shielded himself from those, the ground by his feet exploded making him lose his footing. She sent a petrifying curse he just managed to block as he rolled to his feet. She was running before he regained himself and he tore after her.

* * *

Bianca had despaired at the trap jinx but soon realized there was only one way for her to keep Harry out of the Order's hands. She checked his temperature before leaving him and took heart that he wasn't hot anymore. She hoped that he would be okay, because going to the Order meant certain death, this was the only chance he had. She disillusioned him again and set up charms to hide him. She could hear the two Order men getting closer and had gone to meet one.

Now she was running from him looking for Kingsley. The diameter of the trap jinx wasn't too wide. Kingsley had judged perfectly where she would be. She saw the tail of a cloak and came around the tree with a powerful banishing hex. It took Kingsley full on, sending him hard into another tree. He fell with a grunt and began coughing. She felt terrible cursing him, he had always been kind to her, but she wanted to save Harry more. The trapping jinx disappeared and she had both men following her away from Harry.

She was running blindly zigzagging amongst the trees. They were hot on her heels but somehow she was keeping ahead. To her horror she suddenly ran straight into a clearing. She bolted across the clearing for the trees. Red light of a stunner whizzed pass her right ear. She jerked to the left and saw the red of another stunner too late. Everything went black.

* * *

James Potter was waiting the next night in Arianna Dumbledore's study again. Sirius Black arrived apparating straight into the study. James shot him an annoyed look which the other man shrugged off. Remus arrived next knocking before entering. He nodded to the other two wearily and quickly took a chair. James smiled at his old friend. Remus was the one who inevitably had to chase down every lead they had had over the last eleven years. He was physically hardy, magically powerful, and welcome in such parts of the wizarding world that James and Sirius were not allowed in because of their privileged families.

Ariana Dumbledore rolled in on her wheelchair. Sirius stepped forward to assist her but she waved him away. They automatically took their usual seats and waited for her to join them.

"Thank you," the old woman said with deep feeling. "Albus tells me Poppy hasn't stopped working since last night to match the children with their parents. The blood enchantments are difficult, it will take time. But they are safe." She beamed at them.

"Madame Dumbledore, has Poppy found her yet?" Remus asked, referring to the woman's granddaughter.

Ariana shook her head. "No, she is still running tests. I have seen them all. I believe I know who she is but my brother is right, before I become emotional and leap at a scared child and claim her, we should make certain she truly is my grandchild. Well, I have heard from James and Remus what happened last night, but I believe, Sirius, you know best about the circumstances of the girl you brought to me last night?"

James Potter looked to his friend. "Was she the one inside the shield? Did the other one with her go with the rest of the children?"

Sirius held up a hand. "You'll need to hear this from the beginning. I'll start from where James left, you should all know what happened till then?"

Remus nodded. "Went over it with Albus and Madame Dumbledore. It was a shock to me seeing that magic, luckily I was the last one left in the caves when it happened. The goblins went mad."

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair before continuing. To the others he seemed distracted. "The magic was something like an Andros shield. After James left it completely disappeared. There were an injured girl and boy behind it. The boy was unconscious. It seems to me it was the girl who had cast the shield. I tried to make friends with her but she was suspicious, still she asked for a portkey to St. Mungo's. So far everything was working fine. I thought I'd give her a portkey to Mungo's and follow after her, get her and the boy taken care of and bring them to the meeting point. Then Kingsley arrived and everything went to Hell." Sirius blew out a puff of air.

"What happened, Sirius?" James asked, not liking the expression on Sirius's face.

"She knew Kingsley was part of the Order and started running from us. She said I lied to her about who I was and that she wouldn't let us take him; I presume she meant the boy she was dragging along. Oh, and she also said she wasn't going back again. Whatever that means.

Kingsley and I pursued in which time she cast disillusionment charms, silencing charms, cutting hexes, bombarding curses, a ridiculously powerful banishing curse, before we stunned her. And top it all off she outwitted both Kingsley's and my trapping jinxes to lead us away from the boy who she hid somewhere and we were unable to find. Now I would very much like a drink," finished Sirius and got up for decanter of amber liquid on the shelf.

Remus leaned forward on his knees and held up a finger, "This is very worrisome. One, she knew of Kingsley and the Order. Two," and here he raised another finger, "she distrusts the Order. Three, she is capable of magic that distracted them long enough to hide the boy, which brings me to four and most importantly we have _not_ recovered one of the forgotten children!" Remus stood up in a rage. "I thought we had them. After eleven years, we lost one again?"

"Calm down, Remus," Sirius said sourly. "I've spent nearly every hour since last night searching that whole valley, and when I had to get away Kingsley searched, and when he got away another Order Auror searched. I know I fucked up."

"Language, Mr. Black," Ariana chided distractedly. "This is most disturbing. None of the other children had a reaction like that to us. Why were that boy and girl not locked in cells and so far away?"

"You said she stopped cooperating when Kingsley showed up and she recognized him for an Order member?" asked James.

"Mhm," Sirius agreed taking a sip of his drink. "She was practically terrified."

"Is it possible they were sold to the goblins after being kept by Death Eaters for many years and in that time they inculcated some of the children with their philosophy. It is possible this girl was taught to fear us by them," James said, looking to his companions.

Remus had calmed down a little since his outburst. "If that is true, they know of Kingsley. That means we failed to protect him or he was indiscreet, both are unlikely."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, if it was unlikely we wouldn't have this little super secret group within the Order. We never figured out who the traitor is, Remus, might be him who let on about Kingsley."

It was James's turn to be frustrated with Sirius. "Think about it, Sirius. Since the first war _everything_ in the Order is compartmentalized. Kingsley has never met or been told of the other members. He only knows those he directly reports to. He is your man, Sirius; neither Remus nor I even knew of him until Madame Dumbledore told us last night."

Sirius smiled widely. "I suppose that means either me, good lady Dumbledore, or Albus himself is the traitor."

Remus rolled his eyes. "As I said: unlikely."

"I haven't told you the best part yet," said Sirius sitting down again. "This is the wand the young lady was using so effectively. Lose something, James?"

"No." James frowned as he caught the wand thrown to him. "This…feels like mine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand that was close to identical to the one Sirius had given him. The scratches and nicks on it were in different places. It looked like it had burned sometime long ago, other than it felt very well kept.

"This gets better," said Sirius, but losing his humor. "I thought the wand was yours but I stopped by Ollivander's to check. He was upset that you'd burned it but said it belonged to you for certain. I got this off the girl, James."

Tense silence fell between them as each considered the possibilities. Wild thoughts ran through James's mind but he could not figure out how two identical wands were possible. There was much lore in fairy tales about brother wands connecting their owners in usually romantic ways, but he didn't feel the least bit amused by that thought. He caught a motion with the corner of his eyes. Ariana Dumbledore had nodded quickly to herself.

"Gentlemen," she called them to attention. "It was wise of Sirius to bring her to me. It is best she is isolated from the other children. I do not know what her fear of the Order, magical ability, or her wand mean. What I understand is that we must resolve this quickly. The Order is about to go through its worst internal strife. When we tell our friends that we let them continue their lives oblivious to the existence of their firstborn they will not forgive us. But somehow we must keep their loyalty and not lose them. The healing will be arduous and I don't wish to be distracted by the riddle this girl presents. Are we agreed?"

It was James's cue as he knew it. After Ariana Dumbledore he was ranked highest in that room. As defeater of Voldemort he had gained quick following and authority within the Order. He didn't revel in the status much, as far as he was concerned Remus and Sirius were equally deserving, but Ariana Dumbledore liked to put people in places. "Yes, Ma'am, we are agreed on our goals," he said.

"Aye," said Remus and Sirius after one another.

"Thank you, now I will require one of our best interrogators to question the girl." Ariana looked to them for suggestions.

"Moody is too frightening," Remus said.

"And don't even mention Snape, the treacherous bastard," said Sirius, wiping the weariness out of his eyes.

"Language, Sirius," Ariana chided again but looked at him concerned. "The guest room is prepared. You will sleep before you go back on duty. And, yes, I agree with you, if the girl already fears us exposing her to Snape is the least intelligent thing we can do."

They all looked to James who kept his gaze steadily at the floor. Finally Ariana broke the silence, "There is no one better than Lily for this James. Her subtle touch is required, and she truly is the best as you know."

"I do not want her involved with this case. I have told you this many times, Madame." James gave her a meaning laden look.

It was Remus who spoke instead of Ariana. "James, she is one of the very few we know with dead certainty is not the traitor who obliviated most of the Order of any knowledge of the abducted children. And she is most qualified. She has the best interrogation record out of all of us. I don't know why you didn't want her part of this case, but she already knows the basics. She is guarding those children right now as we speak."

"The cat's amongst the pixies now, mate." Sirius shrugged.

"James, I will speak with the child. You three come with me, keep yourself hidden. Hopefully I will find a clue in her mind. If it doesn't work we will need Lily. Will you bring her if I fail?"

James nodded and stood up to follow the old woman. He was intensely curious about the girl.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

A.N. Thanks to World and Oz for content proof.

___

The window was sealed tight and magically enforced; hitting it with a chair had only made a dull sound and had no effect. The door was locked as well, the screws did not give, not that the fork in her hand was the best tool to take a door off its hinges. Her hands shook from deep weariness, hunger, worry, and fear. She cursed and forced herself to steady her hands. She tried to wedge the fork between the hinge plate and the wood of the door. The fork bent but made no way. Sweat ran into her eyes making her wipe at her face furiously.

She had been raised as a soldier; she knew not to cry, that it was counterproductive, but just then, being under the weight of hunger, the shock of battle, fear of being captured, and anxiety about her brother were too much for the young girl. She gave up on the door and went to the walls again. She tapped on the wall moving systematically around the room hoping to find a secret exit. When she came to the window and the food waiting on a table under it she almost lost her strength. For a long minute she stared at the Shepherd's pie, telling herself she could not eat it. Aunt Jamie had taught her of what to expect if she was ever captured by Death Eaters. But the lessons she had learned secretly watching her aunt interrogate enemies had been far more memorable. She would spike their food with Veritaserum or poison, forcing them to tell her what she wanted to know in exchange for the antidote…and sometimes she didn't give the antidote. Then there was the Legilimency to watch out for. She didn't know how the Order would treat her, but she knew if they saw her as an enemy, she didn't want to be facing her Aunt.

If there was a secret entrance to the room she couldn't discover it. She searched through the mounds of knickknacks sitting all over the room for something she could use to escape, but there was nothing. Feeling defeated again she dragged herself to the adjoined bathroom to take a drink from the tap. There was water on the window table but she didn't trust it. Finally she slumped next to the wall adjacent to the door, holding the fork she had taken from the plate listlessly. Her breathing was ragged and her face was slick with sweat.

Everything had happened so fast that it felt unreal. Her brother she hadn't talked to since the first time she met in his house had dueled with Dumbledore. Her squib brother bloodied the greatest wizard on earth! She was there and yet she disbelieved her own memory. Moments after that she was in the middle of goblin armies, scavenging for food for Harry, worried that he wasn't waking up, and ministering to his wounds with the little knowledge she had of such things. And once again he was torn from her when the Order kidnapped her. She couldn't think without it hurting, without the bewilderment of her life making her terrified.

She wanted someone to save her so badly that it was a physical pain; she needed someone to make the madness stop. Her heart ached from all the questions and the confusion of not knowing what had happened to her life.

After thinking it over she guessed she was yet again in a different world; someplace Professor Dumbledore had thrown them to…someplace Kingsley didn't remember her. She didn't want this; she didn't want to be lost again in a place where even the Order didn't know her.

The worst, the most painful tragedy, was her brother. He was nothing like she remembered him. He wasn't the quiet and sweet boy who was her family. This new one was powerful, fierce, and a stranger. A cold claw gripped her heart when she realized she didn't know if Harry was Harry.

Bianca couldn't stop the tears, no matter how much she had borne without complaint before. In her self pity she lamented not finding out what had changed Harry, and not having had the chance to just talk to him. Again and again she wondered if it really was him, and felt guilty of being suspicious of him. She desperately wished that what she felt the first night she met him was real, that the magic which had burst between them meant they were family. But she also worried he was possessed, considering he had the magical power to almost beat Professor Dumbledore. Who was he? Where did my real brother go?

She mourned for what she had lost right before being thrown back in time. All she had ever known was training, studying magic, preparing to fight Death Eaters. She had had no friends her age because her Aunt had taught her they were a liability. Not until she had turned fifteen and found her brother did she finally have someone to talk to. For the first time in her life she said what she felt and didn't care that Voldemort could use him against her. She had never felt family's love before meeting him; Aunt Jamie had been so cold. She hadn't listened to her Aunt's warnings and so when Voldemort took her brother she had only herself to blame.

And then he killed him.

In her rage she had been careless, allowing someone to curse her into the Time room. At first when she woke up back in her younger body she thought it was blessing in disguise. She could still save her brother. She could be happy again.

But the world had changed and nothing she tried to do turned out right. Despite her uncertainty about her brother, she was despairing, thinking she had left him dying surrounded by goblins. She would lose him – again. It would be her fault – again. "Please, be safe," she prayed.

Jamie had prepared her for capture and interrogation; Bianca felt she could bear some torture as well as she was told to expect of the Death Eaters, but she thought ruefully that all her Aunt's lessons hadn't included losing reality.  
She just wanted to go home.

Even going back to the boy who she had thought was the brother she'd lost would be better than the agonizing wait for someone to come bursting into her room. She thought of Harry again and how she hadn't had a moment to sit and simply talk to him. And that he might be dead. Like a cycle her thoughts ran to him, fear of him, wariness of him, fear of being a captive, and the longing for everything to go back to how it was, to what she knew. She was making herself sick from hunger and worry.

She sat and thought about what to do next: to continue to try and escape or to confide in the Order. She wondered how she'd find Harry if she ever did get away. More immediately she hoped she could keep on resisting the food.

-----------

James Potter followed Ariana Dumbledore ahead of his two friends. Remus was good naturedly casting doubt on Sirius's dueling abilities considering a 'little girl' had given him the run around. James almost cracked a smile when Remus commented that being run around by women had been the story of Sirius's life. James understood Remus was trying to lighten the atmosphere, but his old friend had no idea of why he feared for Lily.

James quickened his pace as Ariana Dumbledore deftly maneuvered the narrow hallways of her childhood home. She stopped at the doorway to what had once been her eldest brother's room. Remus and Sirius hushed their witty repartees.

"It would be best if you were hidden from sight; I don't want to frighten the girl," Ariana said over her shoulder.

James charmed Sirius and Remus quickly before doing himself; he didn't want to waste time while they found their composure. Somewhere between the sitting room and where the girl was being kept his curiosity had turned to apprehension.

Ariana leaned forward on her wheelchair to knock before entering. James felt Sirius and Remus on his side crowd the doorway to look in while Ariana went in. It was reminiscent of their times hiding under the invisibility cloak and raising Hell in Hogwarts.

James's eyes went to the girl immediately; she was standing by the window her knees bent a little as if she expected to be hit by something. Her eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles around them. She looked trapped; which, James realized with a shock, is how she probably felt. The food on the table was untouched. She hadn't eaten all day.

For a few seconds Madame Dumbledore and the girl regarded each other. James saw the girl straighten and relax a little as if she didn't expect to have to absorb a hit any longer. Her hair was jet black and tousled, and her brows were quite dark which made her hazel eyes look striking. Her expression was blank with only a hint of wariness. His hopes that somehow seeing her would solve the mystery of why she carried an identical wand as his own were dashed. But something…something about the set of her jaw, the way she held herself gave him a sense of déjà vu.

"I am Ariana Dumbledore, my dear. What is your name?"

The girl simply stared over her shoulder where James was standing with Remus and Sirius. He got an uncomfortable feeling that she knew they were there despite the disillusionment charms. Ariana wheeled herself a little closer to the girl.

"Tut, tut. Aren't you hungry, dear? Come now, I will heat it up for you," said Ariana bringing out her wand. For a second the girl's eyes fixed on the old woman's wand. James began to move expecting the girl to try and snatch it from Madame Dumbledore. But the girl didn't move from her place, and snapped her eyes back to the door frame where the three hidden men stood.

"What do you want?" said the girl, her voice was scratchy.

"Me?" said Ariana, feigning surprise. James shut his eyes in  
embarrassment for the old witch. She was many things but a convincing actress she was not. "I just want to help you. I see you have healed well from your fight with the goblins." Ariana waited for the girl to say something.  
"There now, it's warm. Go ahead and eat."

"You first," said the girl, not looking at her.

"Oh, no, dear, this is a little rich for me. Besides I am not hungry," said Ariana.

Wrong move, James thought to himself. He wondered if he should have volunteered to talk to the girl, Ariana clearly did not understand how wary the girl was of her.

"Then I am not too hungry either," said the girl, only for a moment meeting Ariana's eyes to give her a challenging look.

"No need to be difficult," said Ariana, wheeling herself to the table. She took a bite from the plate and looked expectantly at the little girl.

"So, who is standing by the doorway?" the girl asked. James felt movement on his sides; she had surprised her friends.

"There is no one there, dear. You should eat," said Ariana but not quickly enough.

The girl sat down on a chair across from Ariana Dumbledore and pulled the plate to herself. "Well, it's not poison or Veritaserum since you're alive and lying. Maybe you're above spiking food. I suppose even kidnappers have standards." And then she began wolfing down the food hardly waiting to breathe.

James saw Ariana Dumbledore's back go rigid at her words. He was stunned by the girl himself. He heard Sirius stifle a snort beside him and quietly elbowed the man.

"What do you take me for, young lady? We rescued you, healed your wounds, gave you a place to rest and recover, and fed you. Look at me when I speak to you!" Ariana Dumbledore scolded the girl. By her tone James knew she hadn't actually lost her cool but was trying to off balance the girl who had thus far seemed more in control of the interview.

"No thank you, I don't want to deal with Legilimency while I'm eating. And don't expect me to thank you for kidnapping me," said the girl between mouthfuls.

James was startled and he was sure he wasn't alone. Had she been interrogated before? How did she know Madam Dumbledore was going to use Legilimency on her? She had expected every action they took or could have taken. She was nothing like an eleven year old girl he knew; she was nothing like his daughters.

"We didn't kidnap you, we rescued you. The goblins would have killed you, I assure you," said Ariana. James wondered how he could signal the old witch to withdraw; her current tact was not going to work. The little girl did not respond but continued to eat with only an excuse for table manners. James wondered how long she had been hungry. There was a knock on the door, James turned to see Sirius was visible and smiling into the room.

"Madam Dumbledore, a letter just arrived for you. If you don't mind I'll keep her company," said Sirius. James approved; Sirius also had realized Ariana was not making progress.

"Of course," said Ariana. She slowly wheeled herself to the door, giving James and Remus enough time to move out of the way. Sirius half shut the door behind Ariana and took the seat across from the girl.

James was struck again by how such a slight and small girl was giving them trouble. His own daughters were sweet and charming creatures, he thought fondly. The girl had finished the Shepherd's pie faster than he would have believed possible, she was now ignoring Sirius in favor of the window.

"So how are you feeling? Sorry about how things turned out last night," Sirius said leaning forward on his knees. He had his most charming smile on his face. James felt a little uncomfortable seeing the same disarming look Sirius used on grown witches being used on a little girl.

"You said you'd take us to St. Mungo's," the girl said quietly and without rebuke.

"Mhm, that is before you went mad. I was afraid you would start attacking innocent healers and nurses." Sirius grinned at her. "They might not have understood you were a little high strung after giving a goblin army painful regrets." Here Sirius affected an aloof demeanor "I, on the other hand, am very forgiving when it comes to assault, battery, cutting, and bombardment hexes. Nice spell work by the way."

The girl finally looked at him with disinterest. "People tell you you're funny, right?" she asked.

Sirius shrugged good-naturedly.

"It's very annoying," said the girl and turned away. James smiled at the expression on Sirius's face. It was the same as when Lily deflated him every now and then.

"Brat," said Sirius crossing his arms but still smiling. "So, what's your name?"

"Brat," she answered lazily. James was beginning to get tired of her attitude.

"Alright, Brat. Why'd you lose your nut when you saw Kingsley?" Sirius asked not losing a beat.

"Because I thought he would kidnap me, and I would be locked up like I am now," she said tiredly. James moved from his position so he could see the girl's face. She looked to him to be less sullen like he was expecting and more defeated.

"That was for your own safety. You were wounded in the middle of a rampaging goblin horde with Aurors and Hitwizards about to battle them. It was no place for a child. What were you doing there at all?" asked Sirius, forgoing his laid back persona.

"Lost," said the girl, the word seemed to come from deep inside her. James saw Sirius take note of the change in her. The more he observed her the more he got worried. The girl's attitude was a flimsy front to something almost desperate inside her. He began to think interrogating her was wrong, but he still needed to know how she had gotten her hands on an identical wand as his.

"Where are your parents? I'll take you home," Sirius said.

"My parents were killed by a dark wizard. I can go home by myself, just let me go," said the girl finally making eye contact with Sirius. The façade had fallen, the gray around her eyes was pronounced, her face almost slack from weariness. James wondered how this vulnerable girl could have been the one who cursed and ran from both Sirius and Kingsley the night before.

"I am sorry about your parents, dear," Sirius said gently. "Just tell me what I need to know and I will take you home."

"I will go home by myself. I don't trust you, I don't know you. You took me away. What do you want with me?!" she stood up shouting, swooned, and sat down. Sirius reached to steady her but held back.

"How did you come by your wand?" Sirius asked softly, even as the girl tried to compose herself.

"My Aunt gave it to me. Belonged to someone in our family," said the girl. James thought she was telling the truth but not all of it.

Sirius didn't pursue it. "How do you know about the Order?"

The girl gave Sirius a baleful look, all the more intense on her worn face. "The Order took my Aunt." James became worried at that revelation. He tried to think of all the witches they had killed or imprisoned and wondered if there was anyway of figuring out her identity through that.

"How do you know Kingsley is an Order member?" Sirius asked, again not pursuing the previous question.

"My Aunt told me." She looked away.

"Where did you learn magic?"

"My Aunt taught me," she answered. James didn't sense the girl was lying to Sirius, but without her Aunt's identity her answers were meaningless.

"Who was the boy you were protecting from the Order?" Sirius asked. For the first time James saw the girl hesitate. She opened her mouth once to say something then closed it. "Who is he?" Sirius pressed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said the girl.

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you get back home. I promise you we won't hurt him," Sirius reached across the table and took the girl's tiny hand in both of his. For a moment it looked like she would give in.

"Thank you," she said. "I wish I knew what you were talking about, because then you would let me go." She pulled her hand out from his. She stood away from the table and leaned against the wall. "Do I get one more chance with another good cop after you, or is it time for the bad cop?" she smiled wanly.

The feeling of apprehension James had been feeling doubled at the look on her face. She was expecting to be beaten, maybe tortured. There was something fundamentally wrong, something that kept making him anxious; they had no reports of this kind of behavior from the other found children, so why her? There was one child in particular that he had been looking for amongst the lost ones. That part of the mission was only known to the two Dumbledores and him. He wondered if it was her, and whether that was the reason she made his instincts scream danger. While he mused on his thoughts Sirius had gone to kneel in front of the girl.

"Listen to me very carefully," Sirius said. "I have spent a night and a day looking for the boy with you in that valley. I did not find him. He was unconscious when I saw him with you. What if something terrible has happened? Don't you want to find him?" he pleaded with her.

The girl shut her eyes and looked away from him. James saw there were tears in the corners of her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, with nary a waver in her voice.

Sirius sighed, patted the girl on the head and left after telling her to rest. James followed him out, sensing Remus was right behind him. They shut the door and removed the charms concealing them. Quietly they made their way back to the sitting room. James had already made up his mind that he wanted to talk to the girl; alone, if he could manage it.

Ariana Dumbledore had a letter folded in her lap and was lost in thought. She started speaking without turning around. "Sirius seems to be touched with prescience. A note from my brother has arrived. One of his sources at Mungo's tipped him off that Aurors just brought in a boy who has been taken to severe curse damage ward immediately. He was discovered under the bodies of dead goblins during clean up." She pursed her lips. "I am glad he is found, but his existence is now on record. Albus is making arrangements to bring him into our care. Sirius, I think it would be wise if you went to confirm the boy is the same as the one you saw last night, and if you can, bring Lily and Poppy some of his blood. Remus, James, you can tell me how Sirius's conversation went with our guest."

"I'll be on my way then," said Sirius, disapparating.

Remus sighed loudly and slumped in one of the chairs. "It was about as useful as your talk with the girl, Madam Dumbledore. Sirius tried to charm her, be friendly, but she was quite resistant. Gave him the cold shoulder throughout."

James kept his face carefully blank. Inside he was wondering what Remus was going on about. Remus's show of exhaustion had been a clue that his friend was up to something. No matter how weary Remus was he did not draw attention to it. Ariana Dumbledore was frowning as well.

"You were in there for quite a bit after I left, Remus. What did they talk about?" she asked.

"He asked about everything we are concerned about," said Remus. "But, unfortunately, she is very stubborn." He appropriately looked frustrated. "The only answer he could get out of her is that she doesn't know what he's talking about. Other than that she asked him to let her go. I am afraid Lily is the only one who can deal with her." He finished, not even once looking at James.

Ariana turned to James. "Did you glean anything from the conversation?"

James shook his head. "Afraid not, madam, she is very wary of us. She treated Sirius even less cordially than she treated you. Since he was the one who chased her down…" James trailed off, his meaning clear to Ariana that the girl would not confide in Sirius. "But before we call Lily, I would like to speak to her alone. She knew there was someone standing disillusioned in the room. This may be a way to gain her trust if she sees I am by myself."

Remus gave James a hint of a smile for following his lead while Ariana wasn't looking. The old witch massaged her head missing the byplay. James just hoped the most even keeled man of their group hadn't lost his mind lying to Ariana Dumbledore.

"Very well. This whole situation is quite vexing. At least with the boy recovered she might be more cooperative. Truthful answers in exchange for a meeting between the two…yes, that might get her to talk," she thought aloud. James carefully did not meet Remus's eyes, knowing the other man had never become used to Ariana's calculating side.

"The girl needs more care than you can provide right now, Madam Dumbledore. I think it would be best if I watch over her. I will take her out so she doesn't feel like a prisoner. It will help us if she doesn't think we are gaolers," said Remus. Ariana looked uncertain so Remus pressed, "I have spent all of my adult life so far looking for these children. I will not lose her even if she tries to escape me. We need to know what she knows and the only way we will find out is if she trusts us. Please," he implored.

"What do you think, James?" Ariana asked. "Am I incapable of taking care of an eleven year old girl."

Remus was taken aback, "That is not what I - "

"That is not what he meant," James interrupted and gave Remus the slightest of head shakes to tell him to shut up. "The girl is scared and unpleasant because of that. Remus is right, getting out of that room, maybe going to Hogsmeade, and being in Remus's company will make her drop her guard. You have already attempted to interview her, she will continue to not trust you. Remus can approach her another way. You have much to deal with in the coming days as is."

"I swear I shall lose my voice telling you children I am perfectly capable of functioning like any of you. Must you treat me as an invalid? Do as you wish. I need to rest." Ariana Dumbledore wheeled herself out of the room looking no where near as mollified as James was hoping.

When James was sure she was out of ear shot he looked askance to Remus. His friend had a very serious look on his face. Remus spelled a charm to keep their conversation private and came to stand face to face with James.

"Remus, what the bloody hell are you doing?" James demanded.

"Shut it. Tell me, we were chosen for this mission at the end of the war because none of us had been obliviated, right? Which means none of us potentially had children we didn't know about, right?" Remus was agitated, which made James concerned.

"Yes, of course. Anyone else would have been too emotionally attached…wait, why the hell are we talking about this? It's old news, what does that have to do with…" James trailed off as the beginnings of what Remus might be implying occurred to him. "Out with it!" he demanded.

"James," Remus said very softly, barely above a whisper. "Who checked you for signs of memory charm?"

James felt his heart begin to beat very fast. "Professor Dumbledore and Ariana after him…why?"

"Because that child in there smells like your daughters. She smells of you and Lily. I do not make a mistake like that, old friend. I have hunted these kids for too many years. I learned the smell of each and every Order member from the old days, I memorized the smells of their children to help me find the missing ones. She has your eyes and the scent of your children." By the end Remus had clasped James's shoulders. James felt glad for that because his legs felt suddenly weak.

He shook his head. "That is impossible, Moony. It can't be…"

"No. It can be. It can be if the Dumbledores lied to you. How many of our friends in the Order did we lie to, how many did we hide the truth from that we knew they had children missing and had no memory of it?! Do you really think Professor Dumbledore wouldn't do that to you?" Remus tried to catch James's eyes which had gone unfocused in his confusion.

"Remus, I, no, Ariana wouldn't do that to me, she wouldn't lie to us," said James

"Wake up, James!" Remus's vehemence actually did force James to focus. "Ariana Dumbledore has been running the most secret unit within the Order for over a decade. She can lie, she does lie, and she lies to _you_. I am the one who did the dirty work, the side jobs no one wants to know about. I know their capacity for deceit. You have been working and lying for this woman for ten years and you still think she won't lie to you?" Remus made a disgusted sound. "I lied to her because if that child in there is yours, whatever her secrets are, they belong to you and your family. Don't let her get taken over by the Dumbledores. I know you think I don't know, but I know you have been looking for one child all this time for the Dumbledores. One special child because of whom all the others were kidnapped too. If that girl can cast an Andros shield of the size you and Sirius saw she could be that child."

James sat down heavily. He held his face and just stared at his old friend, finding the fury in his commonly gentle face unsettling. "Remus…I wanted to tell you, but it was a secret. What the hell am I going to do?"

"You are going to help me take that girl out of here. You will help me get blood from her and give me yours. I will take both to Poppy and find out the truth as quietly as I can. We saved them, damn it! And now we're going to interrogate them and give them meeting privileges only if they share information with us? This is not what I worked for."

"Okay, alright. Let's go get her." James stood feeling at sea, but he was willing to follow Remus's lead. At the least it made sense to have Remus take over custody of the girl.

As they entered the door the girl's calm expression gave way to wonder. James watched her stare at him, at time squinting her eyes as if she wasn't sure she was seeing him right. As for himself it was as if he was seeing her for the first time as well. He focused on her eyes and thought he could now see the resemblance Remus had noted. But he kept himself from leaping to the conclusion his friend had, he still found it unbelievable.

"I'm James Potter, this is Remus Lupin. We will be taking you out of here. Come on," he said when he noted that Remus was not going to say anything.

"You can't be James Potter…" the girl mumbled, still looking at him with awestruck eyes. "I don't believe you."

"We really don't have time for suspicion." James was frustrated.

"Okay, I'll go with you," said the girl utterly fixated on him.

Remus arched a brow. "Well that is the quickest she's agreed to anything."

"Hold my hand, I'll take you to Remus's ho-" James hadn't finished talking and the girl was already latched on to his hand with both of hers looking at it wonderingly.

"You're real…" she said to herself.

James gave Remus a panicked look, but his friend shrugged back. Finding no help James side-along disapparated, realizing as he winked out that he was no longer anxious.

-----------

Sirius Black entered the curse damage ward making his way to where they treated the severely damaged patients. It looked like some procedure was just winding down. On arriving at St. Mungo's he had found out from some Aurors who had stayed behind after bringing in the boy that they had almost missed him and were going to burn him with the rest of the goblin bodies. A couple of them expected to be chewed out the next day at the Ministry. Sirius had comforted them a little, promising he would say some words in their defense and then dismissed them. More than anyone else he was cursing himself for not finding him; he wondered how that was at all possible.

"Is that the boy we brought in?" Sirius asked one of the nurses leaving the ward.

"Yes, poor child. Was touch and go…he'll make it. Merlin only knows how," she said hardly sparing him a glance and kept on her way.

Sirius stood aside waiting for all the healers and nurses to leave the bed he was interested in. No one bothered him; he was still in his Auror robes. When the ward was empty of attendants, Sirius walked over to the bed. The boy looked ghastly, there was no other word he could think of. All he really remembered from the night before was a dark head of hair and glasses. He took the glasses sitting on the side table and set them on the boy's face.

"Well, close enough to what I remember. It's probably him…" he said to himself as he looked closely at the child's face. The circular glasses were so much like James's he couldn't help but make note of them now that he had a moment to observe. He traced the scars on the child's face as he left the glasses on him. Merlin…he looks just like James did as a kid…

A shoe scuffed on the floor bringing Sirius out of his realization. He looked behind him to see Lily standing there. "Lily, don't sneak up on an old dog like that; you scared me. I came here to get the boy's blood. Doesn't he look just like James?" Sirius asked, wondering why Lily was glaring at him the way she was. She looked like she had rushed there, her hair was a little untangled and she was out of breath.

At his question her expression softened however and she looked at the boy with a blissful smile. "Yes, he does…and Sirius, don't take any of his blood."

"Why?" asked Sirius.

"Because," Lily said and motioned him to come close.

Sirius turned his head so Lily could whisper in his ear.

_"Obliviate,"_ said Lily.

-----------

Lily finished modifying Sirius's memories and sent him on his way pressing a portkey in his hand. She turned to the boy on the bed. A look mixed with pain and joy crossed her face. She bent over and kissed his forehead.

"Welcome back, my son. Don't worry Mummy's got you now, and no one will find out you've returned," she whispered to him. She gathered Harry in her arms and disapparated, leaving behind no trace in the memories or records of St. Mungo's that Harry had existed.

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Edited now. My thanks to JF and Vorpal.


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N. **I know it has been many months since I have written this. College life with full time work is very demanding. So to make up for it I am trying to update as much as I can during this break. Last week was Retsu's Folly, today is Catharsis.

For anyone looking for a great collection of fanfiction, subscribe to this C2: www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/DLP_5_Starred_and_Featured_Authors/84507/

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**Chapter 14**

His nose tickled and he swiped at it to find that his hand was wet, in fact, so was his face. Slowly he blinked his eyes open, finding himself under the boughs of a tree thick with leaves. The ground and he, as well, were covered in mountain dew. Harry sat up quickly and surveyed his surroundings. He was in the woods somewhere and at the base of the tree closest to him sat a tall silver jar, a cloak, and a letter hanging in the air.

As he stood up he realized that he was wearing different clothes than he had been. Hurriedly he searched for the Resurrection Stone and breathed in relief when he found it on the chain around his neck. He wondered who had changed him while he was passed out, and more importantly who had healed him, because it would have taken someone of great skill to undo Dumbledore's curses.

The woods were not the same as the one he and Bianca had been in the fight with the goblins; there were no signs of battle. Bianca had obviously found help somewhere for the both of them, and he wondered where the girl was now. Maybe the letter is from her, Harry thought. Feeling thirsty he picked up the cool jar and looked at the clear liquid in it suspiciously. Throwing caution to the wind he raised the jar and drank deeply from it, and kept on drinking till there was not a drop left.

"What the Hell!" He threw the jar away from himself, realizing that some spell had compelled him to drink from it. However, he felt supremely refreshed and strong, as though he'd had a rejuvenation potion.

Now a little perturbed and hoping to find out where Bianca was, he plucked the letter hanging in the air. It read:

_It's bitter joy to see you again, to have you so close but unable to have you with me is the worst torment I have been through and I have been through many since you were taken. I am compromised, so don't try to get in touch with me without caution; I am only safe to approach when I am wearing the pendant if you must see me. Unfortunately our mission cost me dearly; I am in some ways the greatest danger to you here. So you must be careful!_

_I hope you drank the potions I left you. If you have not, you must drink soon, it will repair the last of the curse damage on you and protect your blood from paternity and maternity identification spells for a few days. I saved you before your blood could be taken. _

_You were found underneath goblin bodies and brought to Mungo's. They treated you there and I took you away a moment before the enemy found you. Unfortunately Mungo's staff did not find traces of some of the more obscure curse damage on you, which I had to take care of. I have erased the memories of the staff and the enemy's agent, but others are aware of your existence. _

_There is much you have to know but I cannot put in writing or even speak it out loud. We will have to communicate in the old way. _

_Stay safe, I love you._

_L._

Harry read the letter twice, unable to follow all that was said in it. He wondered who 'L' was and was he or she both a friend and a foe. He became anxious realizing that the letter mentioned nothing about Bianca. What had become of her?

He slipped the letter in his pocket and put the cloak waiting for him around his shoulders. The last he'd seen her she was fighting goblins. She wouldn't have left him buried under goblins if she could help it. So it was clear, she was either dead, a prisoner of the goblins, or something else had happened to her. Harry wondered about the 'enemy' the letter mentioned. His blood ran cold at these possibilities but he marshaled himself, if Bianca was alive, she needed him.

"I'm an idiot." Harry slapped himself and pulled out the resurrection stone around his neck. He spun it thrice and called his sister's name. When he had waited several minutes and her spirit didn't show, he sighed in relief, knowing for certain now that she was alive.

With hope aflame he disapparated, planning on visiting the chieftains of the goblins they had fought.

0000000000

Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black sat across from Minister Crouch as the sharply groomed man attempted to bore holes in the two wizards with his eyes.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I am sure you are aware why I have asked to see you," Minister Crouch began.

Albus Dumbledore smiled politely. "I cannot say I know, Barty. I presume it has something to do with Auror Black's presence. I'm fairly certain, however, that I have not had any run ins with the law lately."

The Minister bristled at the casual manner in which Dumbledore was dismissing his irritation. He leaned back in his chair, affecting a silence to show that he was not amused.

Sirius sat on one of the visitor chairs, realizing he was more or less just a spectator as two political powerhouses danced. The Minister, he noted, was impeccably dressed as usual in black pinstriped robes, with only the jewel studded cufflinks a departure from his seemingly austere wardrobe. Even the man's hair and moustache looked to be cut with a ruler. He snorted mentally at the contrast Dumbledore was to the Minister. Dumbledore, as always, was dressed in the most wizardly of garb he could find with little regard for the blacks and grays that Ministry top brass prescribed to.

The silence stretched, and while the Minister and Dumbledore seemed alright to sit mute, Sirius had things to do. "Minister, if you please, could you let me know what you need me for? There is quite a bit of paperwork that I still need to finish."

Minister Crouch sent Sirius a quelling look but the younger man met it with a blank look.

"Auror Black, you are simply here to confirm certain facts of the recent events as and when I require, your paperwork can wait."

"As you wish, Minister," Sirius said with a smile and got comfortable. No harm in having tried, he thought to himself.

"The kidnapped children who have been returned to their families…I would say it's safe to presume that you are familiar with them, Headmaster," the Minister began anew.

"Of course," said Dumbledore. "It's a joyous yet worrying occasion, given how most of the parents were not aware of the children's existence."

"Quite," agreed Minister Crouch. "A most disturbing mystery, definitely pointing to some foul play at the close of the war. Many of the families are good friends of yours, is that not so, Headmaster?"

"I like to think all of my previous students are on good terms with me." Dumbledore smiled.

"Of course." Minister Crouch said with a bland smile of his own. "Then you may have some insight into who amongst your friends is on a vigilante mission against the goblin rebel factions that we have just made peace with?"

Sirius frowned and noticed that Dumbledore looked puzzled as well.

"Minister, I have no knowledge of this, nor am I in a position to be aware of such things as you are implying," Dumbledore said, finally losing the pleasant tone he had maintained thus far.

"Let's speak openly, Headmaster. I have a strong reason to believe that you were involved with a vigilante organization in the war, possibly with the tacit cooperation of the government of the time. Others that I had identified in my time as head of the department of magical law enforcement to belong to that group are today the ones welcoming the children we found in the hands of the goblins. In other words, your people were victims of some strange goblin conspiracy," The Minister finished steepling his fingers and glaring at the far more powerful wizard.

"Barty, surely the people whose children were taken away are your responsibility foremost, as the Minister of Magic. It is no secret that I opposed the dark and many others did so as well, but to say that I was part of some extra-governmental organization is the product of some fevered mind." Dumbledore put up a hand to forestall Crouch's response and continued, "Leaving that aside for a moment, how does this tie into this vigilante issue you are experiencing?"

"I am not experiencing this problem. It is the goblin tribes that were rebelling who are being subjected to a terror campaign unless they give over a wizard girl who they supposedly have imprisoned. My people are certainly not harassing the goblins anymore, now that we have decisively beaten them and they have surrendered. This only leaves the one shadow group in our nation that has wizards and witches of sufficient magical power to go barging into goblin strongholds killing off their warriors!" Minister Crouch stood to his significant height, slamming his fist on his desk. "I will not have your people derail the peace process and reseed rebellious sentiment in the goblins, Dumbledore. I want you to cease and desist."

"Sit down, Barty," Dumbledore said with quiet authority, and the man found himself falling into his chair despite his intention to stay standing. "I will ask you to stop accusing me of being a vigilante. Now, I am unaware of this situation, and to my knowledge no one in my circle of friends is out looking for his or her child, much less attacking goblins."

"Minister," Sirius interposed himself into the exchange. "Do you have any more information on the person attacking the goblins?"

Crouch thought for a moment. "Much of the information is unreliable. Some of them say that it's a boy, other say it's an adult male. There might be two involved but I doubt a mere boy could survive an encounter with these goblins. Either way, the girl they keep demanding be returned is described to be around ten, hazel eyes, black hair, with a scar on her neck."

Sirius sat back with a thoughtful expression, hoping that Crouch hadn't seen recognition in his eyes. _It's the boy, it has to be,_ Sirius thought.

"Dumbledore," Crouch interrupted their musings. "It is my understanding that a werewolf is to be thanked for finding these children. A Remus Lupin in your employ."

"That is correct," Dumbledore said. "You are well aware that the Longbottoms' child was kidnapped when he was less than a year old. Despite the Ministry's best efforts, he was not found."

"So you took upon yourself to put your man on the job?" Crouch asked with a disgusted expression.

"Mr. Lupin was and is extraordinarily talented but unfortunately his condition precludes him legally from working in many places. He was a friend of the Longbottoms' and a fighter for the light. He needed a job and the job needed someone to do it. If we had only been aware of the extent of the kidnappings, perhaps the Ministry would have brought more resources to bear on finding the boy." Dumbledore stood. "This meeting is over, Barty. I am not interested in vague accusations and conspiracy theories. It seems you have a serious and real problem to solve, I will show myself out so you can get to it. Good day."

The Minister had stood as well but Dumbledore swept from the room before any further unpleasantries could be exchanged. Sirius Black hung back and asked, "Minister, you said this wizard is killing the goblins? Could it be self-defense? He might've gone to them asking for information and knowing these goblins they might have decided to kill him."

Minister Crouch remained standing, staring at the hallway through the door Dumbledore had left. "It is not unlikely, as you say, given the particular goblin tribes we are dealing with, but considering the wizard is continuing to invade their strongholds to wipe the floor with them, I believe that he is contributing to creating a situation where 'self-defense' may be necessary." Crouch laughed.

Sirius smiled. "You seem less upset about the situation than you were when Dumbledore was in here."

Crouch sat down and crossed his legs, seeming to relax. "Politics, Auror Black," he said by way of explanation. "The truth is I'd rather have had those goblins not surrender so we could have legitimately destroyed them. Now they will continue to live and pass on their ideologies to younger generations, and a few years later these same names and same faces will be on the list of rebel leaders and warriors."

Sirius hummed to himself in thought. "So you approve of what this wizard is doing?"

"If it were your daughter, Sirius Black, what would you do?" Crouch asked, holding Sirius's eyes.

Sirius grinned, liking the Minister for the first time. "There would be a blood bath."

Crouch nodded. "Then you and this wizard have something in common. His tactics are…vicious, to make an understatement."

Sirius didn't like the look of approval on the man's face, realizing just how wide the cruel streak ran in the Minister. "I suppose you wish me to start an investigation."

"Yes, officially, at the least. It would be best to know who this wizard is, but inform me before making any arrests. I am far more interested in what happened with these children and how exactly were a bunch of goblins able to kidnap so many of them. A little outside pressure is working very well in breaking through their reluctance to talk," Crouch said.

"Sir, if I may ask, would it not be a politically dangerous move for you to finalize peace talks with these goblins once the rest of the world finds out that they had captured wizard children?" Sirius leaned forward, hoping that Crouch was feeling talkative enough to share more.

Crouch nodded with a pleased smile. "An obvious question, of course," he said. "One of my demands is that they hand over whoever is responsible, otherwise we go to war again. If history is any measure, the goblins will give us the names of a few scapegoats, who they will execute in accordance with their laws before we can question them. It will be an utterly unsatisfying end for all of us, but politically I will be covered."

Sirius made a disgusted sound. "I don't know how you stand it. That leaves a very bad taste in my mouth."

Crouch's face darkened in anger. "Oh, and mine as well, Auror Black, but that is the price for being in the place I am. Now, to matters more relevant to you, did you see this girl that I described at the night of the battle?"

"No, sir, I didn't come across any children," Sirius said with an open face.

"I know you have friends amongst Dumbledore's group. I have not had a chance to see the children who were recovered, have you had the opportunity?" Crouch continued.

"There are some celebrations planned. Welcome home type of events, I will see some then, and I can let you know if anyone matches the description."

Crouch smiled. "Thank you. Now, while the hunt for the goblin killing wizard is simply a mission on paper, I want to use it as a cover to investigate the circumstances around the kidnappings. I cannot imagine they did not have help from a wizard or a witch. And you understand what that means."

"Someone betrayed the wizarding world," Sirius provided.

"Exactly. I want that person or persons found, Mr. Black, and I want them shamed and in Azkaban for the rest of their lives. I will not stand for people selling out their kind." The skin around Crouch's eyes became tense in fury.

Sirius stood up and gave a short bow. "The Blacks were never much for traitors, Minister. The case will have my full attention." He nodded and exited the room.

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**Two weeks later**

Bianca spied through the key hole on James Potter and Remus Lupin talking about her. Mr. Lupin had given her leave to all the rooms in his small apartment as long as she promised not to leave. With the chance to know her father at hand she had promised quickly, knowing well Mr. Lupin had spelled the doors and windows to only open for him anyway.

"You've left this very late, James. I don't have much time to have her blood checked before the full moon," Remus was saying.

She saw her father sigh and shake his head. "There's been a lot going on. Dumbledore changed his strategy about how he wanted to tell the rest of the Order about the children. And there have been other issues." He sat on a musty arm chair with his hat in his hand.

Mr. Lupin doesn't look happy with father, Bianca thought. The wizard had been very gentle and sweet, she wondered if he had existed in either of the worlds she's been in before. It was a shame she had never met him.

"I know this is difficult-"

James interrupted Remus. "You have no idea how difficult it is."

"Fine, maybe I don't know, maybe I will never know what it's like, but however difficult this is for you, it must be much worse for her. She knows she's your daughter!" Remus snapped.

Bianca gasped, wondering how Mr. Lupin had figured her out. She had never confessed to either of them that she was James Potter's daughter.

"What are you talking about, Remus?" James frowned.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice the way she fixates on you in the brief moments you've been here. She asks about you and the Potters, very delicately mind you. She's trying to be subtle, but it's obvious she knows you are her father." Remus pulled a chair close to James, speaking now more softly.

"It's just the hero worship. Defeater of the dark lord here. That's all there is to it. They tell fairy tales about me, that's the only reason she's curious about me." James waved him off.

Bianca felt her heart ache and threaten to burst out of her chest. Hearing her father dismiss her was unbearable. She couldn't help herself and before she knew it, she was opening the door and in the sitting room.

She'd hung her head, unable to really look at them, and not wanting them to see the tears in her eyes. She heard movement but they didn't say anything, she wondered if they were angry at the interruption and the eavesdropping.

"I...I want to show Mr. Potter something, Mr. Lupin. Can I please have my wand back for a second? I promise I won't do anything bad." She still hadn't looked up and was startled a little when Mr. Lupin crouched by her and pressed her wand in her palm.

"It's alright, dear. I trust you. I really wish you would tell me your name, though," Mr. Lupin said.

Bianca smiled hesitantly; something about the man just put her at ease, even though she knew he was a werewolf. "It's…" She thought for a moment. "Harley." She gave her middle name just to be careful.

"Thank you for telling me your name, Harley. Now, go on, show us what you want to," Mr. Lupin encouraged.

Bianca looked up, seeing her father standing like a statue, his hat still in his hands, as if the thing held him together. A lance of pain went through her; he looked weak, and it was because of her. She had second thoughts about what she was going to do. Maybe it was best if he never knew her. He didn't look like he wanted to. Or maybe it was like Mr. Lupin had said, for some parents it would be painful to even think of what their children suffered in the many years they were apart. She was glad that Mr. Lupin had assumed she was one of those children and tried to glean information about what had happened to them from her.

He's just worried for me, she decided. He looks so much like Harry, she thought, and it made her smile. "Expecto Patronum!" she shouted and her guardian stag streamed out of the wand.

It circled her once and walked in the small sitting room, brushing against Mr. Lupin, who had an expression of utter delight on his face. The stag went to stand in front of her father. The glow of the patronus made her father's face look bleached white, and his wide stunned eyes shone across the room.

When it disappeared, James met her eyes and held them for a long minute. Then he strode over and enveloped her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know, baby, I didn't know," he whispered, and Bianca could feel the guilt pouring in his words. She couldn't do anything but cry in joy and in grief.

0000000000

The lounge at the old Dumbledore home had been cleared of all unnecessary furniture to make room for the meeting. Simple chairs ringed the room, with a few tables with refreshments. Ariana Dumbledore did not know if lending a certain official air to the meeting was the best way to go about things. It was too impersonal a setting for what was to be a very emotional night for many. She sighed; tired of the uncertainty, worried about the traitor who had never been unmasked, and finally, the less than warm reunion she had had with her granddaughter.

There was a soft knock followed by her eldest brother entering the room. She looked to him anxiously, wondering if he had discovered what she had done. His somber face was enough of a sign for her, she gave a rueful smile. "Will you lecture me, brother?"

Albus Dumbledore came to stand in front of her so she had to crane her neck up painfully to look at him from her wheelchair. "I thought we had agreed that it was time for full disclosure on this matter."

"There is no conceivable way that the Order would stay loyal to you after they found out we had kept the kidnappings of the children a secret. You must see that!" Ariana wheeled herself back and away from the corner Albus had trapped her in.

"The way to redemption is closed unless one confesses, Ariana." Albus followed his sister.

"Oh! So you _will_ lecture me after all," Ariana scoffed.

"You are acting like a child."

Ariana wheeled around to face her brother. "I am over ninety years old, and I have spent over a decade and a half of those years in this wheelchair because of the mistake I made of embracing idealism, Albus. Don't you dare call me a child when _you_ are the one proposing some great odyssey of regret and redemption!"

Albus Dumbledore's face was white with fury. "It was you who put me on this path of seeking to undo my wrongs, dear sister, all those years ago. It's ironic that you sound like Gellert now…" He trailed off, seeing tears trail down Ariana's cheeks.

"My granddaughter is cold and distant. I cannot help but worry that they have done something to her, turned her against us. Whoever kidnapped these children had a long term plan. We need the Order now more than ever to watch out for each other. Albus, the Order is our family, our children…what will I do if they leave me?"

Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily. "So you went to their homes these past two weeks and obliviated them of the memory of us testing them for memory charms when the Longbottom kidnapping happened."

"How would the pain of knowing we knew the possibility of their children having been taken going to help anything? Is it any different than what you have done to Lily? Did you not wish to save her the pain of what she went through in her last years in Hogwarts?" Ariana pleaded, and knew she had convinced her brother, seeing his face become drawn at the mention of Lily.

"Lily was different," Albus whispered, "She was a sixteen year old girl, possessed by some creature that had convinced her he was the spirit of her son. That thing had twisted her mind and need I remind you that it's his curse that took your legs. It pained me greatly that she blamed us, and me most of all for banishing that supposed phantom child of hers. I had to obliviate her, for her sanity's sake."

"It was the only way you could think of saving Lily," Ariana said. "And this is the only way I can think of saving the Order."

"It was more than that," Albus said, "But it is in the past now."

Ariana scoffed. "Ah, yes, the prophecy you are unwilling to share."

"It was dangerous, and I believe still is. Even if there is the remotest chance that he can be summoned from wherever he rots, it would behoove us to remove the possibility. And not revealing the prophecy is one way I guard against that possibility." Albus turned suddenly towards the door. "We have our first guest it seems."

"Well, better start acting our ages then, instead of fighting like children," Ariana teased.

"You started it, dear sister." Albus smiled, and the two elderly siblings shared a smile.

Sirius Black walked into the room without a knock and stood to survey the place. "Wow, well this looks…empty and uninviting. Don't you think it's a little awkward sitting facing each other in this rectangle? And am I first? That's depressing, I was hoping to make an entry, I made sure I was an hour later than when you told me we were meeting, Madam Dumbledore."

Albus Dumbledore chuckled and saw his sister rolling her eyes at Sirius Black. She had always had a soft spot for Sirius, seeing him as someone in need of a mother. "I think my sister might've misspoken when she told you the time."

"Yes, I wanted to make certain you would be on time, and knowing your habits I felt it best to lie." Ariana smiled.

Sirius mock glared. "I'm a busy man, I will have you know. My time is precious. Incidentally I have been spending it searching for the goblin killer."

"And?" Ariana prompted, watching as her brother charmed the lounge with more comfortable chairs and created a more intimate setting. He had taken Sirius's comments to heart, apparently.

"Well…I may have hinted, let on, intimated, or otherwise given an indication to the goblins that I have the girl the goblin killer is looking for." Sirius beamed at her.

She held her head in her hands and said one word in great dismay, "Sirius."

"Very good, Sirius, I believe there have been two more attacks on the goblins just this week. The goblin killer should be on your tail by now, if you spoke to them before those attacks," Albus Dumbledore said, charming couches in various colors of his choice.

"Exactly," said Sirius. "And this is why I like your brother more, Madam Dumbledore, he approves of my ideas."

"Ingrate." Ariana laughed. "Now I shall be up at night worrying about you."

"So, the girl give up anything? Remus been able to get anything out of her yet?" Sirius asked, settling into one of Albus Dumbledore's transfigured creations.

"I have not heard anything. Since Lily will be here tonight, perhaps she can perform the charms on her blood to identify her parents. I know Remus has not had the chance to take her blood to either Poppy or Lily yet," Ariana shared.

"Circumstances surrounding her are very interesting. I had wished her mystery would be solved before tonight's meeting, but perhaps we will learn more today. I imagine Remus will have to bring her with him," Albus said.

Sirius looked around. "So where's the littlest Dumbledore of them all? I haven't had the pleasure yet."

Ariana pursed her lips in a thin line but spoke when both the men looked to her for an answer. "Adele is in her room. She says she likes to spend time by herself."

"Oh," Sirius said. "Well, don't worry, she's just a kid, it's probably a lot to absorb, reuniting with the family you have never known."

"Yes, yes, thank you, Sirius, for trying to comfort me but I am not that fragile," Ariana said repressively.

"Sounds like Adele and mystery girl will get along well then," Sirius said with a grin.

"Albus I hope you are not very fond of Sirius, I fear he will not be around for very much longer." Ariana turned to her brother who had a serene smile on his face.

"I think I'll just go get a drink then…it's good for longevity." Sirius stood up and walked out of Ariana's line of sight.

"It's your fault for indulging him so, dear sister," Albus Dumbledore said happily.

Ariana did not deign to answer and resolved to wait patiently for the rest of the Order. It was the first time in over ten years that they would meet as a group, but just the old crowd.

0000000000

The room had filled with the veterans of the last war; they sat or stood in clumps, cliques of trust which excluded others. Old suspicions resurged enough for there to be an undercurrent of uneasiness. They were trying to celebrate the joyous moment that had brought them together but the question hung in the air: Who was the traitor?

Yet there was one person that all groups greeted and spoke with freely. She seemed to be a rock of trust untarnished by the ripples of suspicions flowing in the room. Indeed, Lily Potter's political capital in the Order had grown exponentially with the latest events. None of them forgot the advice she had given during the war to keep any births secret and hide pregnancies. The Longbottoms had not been cautious and wanted to share their happiness with the Order…and it had cost them their child. Now, when it was apparent that others had suffered the same loss without any knowledge of it, their faith in Lily's wisdom and foresight had only deepened. Some thanked her for warning them all those years ago, others bemoaned that they must not have listened to her.

Lily Potter went from group to group, couple to couple, parent to parent, asking about their lives, their newfound children, their worries, their happiness. It was not unapparent to either of the Dumbledores that there was a current of anger against them for not protecting the Order. How could Albus Dumbledore not have known was an oft whispered question. Ariana wanted to remind them that her brother was neither omniscient nor omnipotent, but understood that the wizarding world's confidence in him was the source of his power as well. Lily, she hoped, would be the bond that kept the Order together. But she was an unpredictable and powerful witch, and her work in the Department of Mysteries was so well hidden that even her brother was unable to gain knowledge of it.

The door opened once more and all eyes turned to welcome James Potter and Remus Lupin. Remus had only a few hours before the Change came over him, and he would need to go to his hiding place. Remus was greeted with cheers, and for the first time that evening the tension left the Order. The deliverer of their children was finally there and they all wanted to thank him personally and hear how it was all done.

It took a while for others to notice that James Potter was holding a girl by the hand that they were unfamiliar with. Lily and James were facing each other and a circle of silence had fallen around them.

"Lily, could you please cast the charms on her…We need to identify her," James said. There were expectant whispers all around.

"Why wasn't I told about her before?" Lily demanded with a frown.

"There were circumstances, she was found fighting the goblins, trying to escape I think. Look we can talk about all that later." James gesticulated with his hand. "Let's just do this first. Her name is Harley."

The others watched in anticipation, wondering to whom the girl belonged. She was clutching James's hand and staring at Lily with the awe of a pilgrim come to her temple. Lily looked from the girl to James, as if reading his face. "You already know…don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," James answered with an unsure smile. "But to prove to everyone else I need you to cast the enchantments."

"Well I don't have blood samples of everyone in the Order here, they are with Poppy, but I guess since everyone is here, we could ask…" She trailed off when James shook his head no.

"All we need is yours and my blood, Lily," James said.

Lily's eyed widened and a second later her fists clenched. "That's impossible! I wasn't obliviated. Professor Dumbledore checked me many times, I've never been obliviated."

Ariana cursed inside, she had obliviated their memory of Albus and her checking them for the effects of the charm after the Longbottom kidnapping, but she hadn't remembered that Albus had used the tests as a ruse to obliviate Lily over the years when the spell wore off. It would only take someone other than Albus or her to test Lily and they would know that Lily indeed had been memory charmed.

"Forgive me, Lily. The charm was powerful. I feared that if I dispelled it, it would break your mind. It would have only caused you worry to know you had been obliviated with no way of knowing what you had been made to forget. I chose to save you the pain. I had no idea that you could possibly have another child from that time." Albus had stood to make his apology, and Ariana could practically see the rift forming between her brother and the rest of the Order. Ariana cursed herself bitterly for forgetting Lily's subsequent 'tests.' She was the one person in that room besides her husband who could keep them together, and she was suddenly a victim.

"Lily! Lily!" Remus was shaking Lily's shoulder, because she was simply standing there like a statue, unblinking. Her eyes were fixated on the girl's neck, where now the others noted a long scar ran.

Lily did not respond to Remus but fished out a necklace with a stag charm on it from her jeans. She put it around her neck and it seemed to the gathered that a change came over her; as if a ripple in the air ran over her body, but it seemed too fanciful a thought to be real. She became animated again. "Professor, we will speak about this later. Right now I need to confirm this. I need some privacy."

"You can use my study, Lily. You know where it is," Ariana said. Lily nodded to her distractedly and motioned for the girl to follow her.

James made to follow but was halted by Lily. "Stay, mingle. You're already convinced she's ours. Someone I trust has to stay and look for any signs of the traitor," she said. James felt Harley's hand let his go, and he could feel the reluctance in the girl. He'd expected Lily to be warmer to the girl than he had been, but perhaps his hesitation in acknowledging her was not so abnormal.

He turned back to the room which was buzzing a live wire with tension.

And now it all falls apart, he thought to himself.

0000000000

Bianca didn't know what to think. In the last world at least some things had been similar to the history that she remembered but in this new place everything was throwing her off. She could not have imagined having her parents alive, or them not knowing of her if they were alive. And her mother was seriously freaking her out. Where she had expected to find compassion and love in her green eyes, she found piercing calculation. When she had put on that locket, something had happened that reminded her of the magic Harry had used in his battle against Dumbledore. She was not reassured by the comparison.

She watched her mother send shadows from her wand to cover the walls of the study, where portraits and other paintings hung. She continued to cast more magic, only some familiar to Bianca, but it seemed her mother wanted total privacy. Finally she sat down across from her with a look of consideration.

"So how did you convince my husband that you are our daughter?" she asked in a neutral voice. Bianca wanted to cry but scolded herself for being so emotional. Her aunt had raised her better, she was a soldier, a warrior of the light, she did not cry…not till she started getting tossed to a new world every couple of months, she thought.

"I cast my patronus…it's a stag," Bianca answered, hoping her mother wouldn't ask the obvious question of how she knew her father was a stag animagus if she had never met him.

Her mother nodded and told her to raise her sleeve. Before Bianca had rolled it up all the way she felt a sting and sucked in her breath at the sudden pain. Her mother had made a cut and drawn blood before she'd realized. She did the same on her arm and the strings of blood now suspended in air melded, separated, and then entwined again. Bianca was fascinated by the magic, beginning to see motes of light within the blood.

She caught her mother's eye across the blood hanging in the air and found she had been staring at her with a slight curve of her lips. Bianca hesitated to think of it as a smile, it seemed too self-satisfied, too edged to be quite a warm gesture. Lily looked away from Bianca's eyes to the blood which had finished doing whatever it was doing. A silver sheen covered it as if it was glowing.

Lily vanished the blood and laced her fingers together in her lap. Bianca drank her sight in, loving her mother's beauty, wishing she had inherited her looks.

"Well, hello, daughter," Lily said with that same sharp smile.

Bianca let out a squeak of fright at the greeting. For some reason her mother was terrifying her. She dearly wished her father had come along. "Hello, M-mother."

"Now, this is the interesting part, _Harley_, just between us mother and daughter, I actually have all my memories, despite what I said in there. You see, I am a little immune to the obliviation charm. So I know very well that I didn't bear you or give birth to you, or had some goblin steal you in the night." Lily leaned forward and cupped her face in her hands, looking like a curious little girl.

Bianca laughed nervously. This was not going as she had hoped. Her father had been much easier.

"Where do you come from?" Lily asked with an insincere friendly smile.

Cold sweat ran down Bianca's back. "I don't think you'd believe me."

"Let me ask you a different question then," Lily said. "Did you deliberately leave Harry under goblin bodies to be burned or was that a mistake?"

In a second Bianca was off her chair and had her back pressed up against the invisible walls of the privacy ward Lily had set up. She was breathing hard and fear gripped her soul for Harry. "Is he alive? Is he okay? Please tell me!" She slumped to her knees. "How did you know?" She stilled, remembering too late that her mother should have no knowledge of Harry. She had checked with Mr. Lupin, the Potters only had daughters.

"Your concern is very convincing," her mother said as if she didn't quite believe her. "Yes, he is alive and out of danger. Next question, is your first name Bianca?"

"Y-yes," Bianca answered, relieved to hear about her brother, yet disturbed by her mother's knowledge and very obvious mistrust of her. The shadows running like waterfalls over the walls now looked a lot more ominous than when the conversation began.

"How old are you really?" Lily asked.

"Fifteen," Bianca answered, giving up on figuring out how she knew all the right questions to ask. Slowly she reclaimed the chair that had fallen when she'd flown off it in fright.

"I expect you know a little occlumency. I will be using legilimency on you now, and I am very adept at it, so don't try to play games with me. I will be looking at your memories of the fight with the goblins. Alright?" she said, taking out her wand.

It went against everything what had been drilled in her to accept what her mother wanted, but Bianca was so worn and needful of her mother to trust her she said yes. The spell was gentle; Bianca did not even realize when it had begun. She was staring at her mother face, the intent look on her features, memorizing the changing expressions. Slowly the cold distrustful blankness gave way to pain and a sad but proud smile.

She put her wand on the table, breaking the spell, and spread her arms inviting Bianca. Bianca didn't need more to be said, despite being thoroughly frightened by her mother, she desperately wanted to be held by her. "Harry is really okay, isn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, he's fine. That was a very brave thing you did, Bianca, the way you protected him." She paused and said, "I'm sorry for the interrogation. There are things you don't know about this world. I did not know if you had come from a timeline or a dimension where you were loyal to the family, I had to make certain."

"How do you know all this?" Bianca asked pulling away from her a little so she could see her mother's face.

"I met Harry when I was very young; he prepared me for things to come. It's a bit odd having your son being your mentor, but we had good times." She smiled, making Bianca smile too.

"I was so worried for Harry. Where is he?" Bianca asked.

"I put him someplace safe to recuperate. He left there some time ago, so he should be alright. Now, Bianca, you can only trust me when I am wearing this locket. All my memories of where you truly are from and other secrets are linked to this. When I am not wearing this I will have no knowledge of the conversation we just had."

"But why?" Bianca asked in confusion.

"For now all you need to know is our enemies want me to forget some important information and it would derail Harry's mission if that happens. I've survived and kept my own mind using this and some other measures. There are some cues which compel me to put this on, like your scar, your names, but it's not a failsafe system. I need you to hold this," Lily said, and pulled out a locket with a doe on it from her other pocket and put it around Bianca's neck. "Tell me to wear this if you see a situation where I need memories of your time travelling and dimension hopping. Ok?"

"You're trusting me with this?" Bianca asked, warmed by the confidence.

"Of course, you have to watch over me. That's your role in this. Harry had me get this ready years ago. Now I will transfer some memories of our talk here and only keep in my mind those memories that won't betray us." Lily motioned Bianca to get up and grabbed her wand to cast magic on the locket.

"So what will you remember?" Bianca asked, feeling terrible about losing the connection she had just made with her mother.

"That you were indeed taken when all these children were kidnapped, and you have led a difficult life. I will protect you from questioning." Lily looked up from her spell work and clasped Bianca's hands. "Just because I won't remember this conversation or your special history, don't think I am not me anymore."

Bianca grinned toothily. "I won't. But what about Harry, can't he come and stay with us?"

Lily frowned. "He doesn't know about the situation, so it's best no one is aware of him yet. When he does come back, he will have to lie low and not use some of his…particular magic, especially around the Dumbledores. Oh, by the way, your father doesn't know about any of this. So keep lips zipped." The dangerous look was back in her mother's eyes.

Bianca looked away. "Ok," she said, wishing her mother would go back to being sweet.

"Alright, time to join the others. Remember don't make eye contact with the Dumbledores too long, and don't trust anyone outside of the family. People can change very fast when timelines fluctuate." With those last words Lily took of the stag pendant and put it in her pocket. She dispelled the charms surrounding them.

Bianca took her mother's hand as she was led back into the lounge. For the first time in a long while, she felt content and safe. If only Harry was there to share it with her.

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End file.
